Amy Sellick And The Year Of The Tournament
by allamericanchic
Summary: It's Amy Sellick's third year at Hogwarts. Crazy things happen this year. There's the Quidditch Cup, the Triwizard Tournament, the Yule Ball, and oh- the return of a Dark wizard? Things are really beginning to change in the wizarding world.
1. The Ministry's Mistake

Author's Note: This is now the third installment of Amy Sellick's adventures at Hogwarts Academy, followed by Amy Sellick And The Year Of The Basilisk and Amy Sellick And The Year Of The Werewolf. These are fun, interesting, action-packed stories that really capture the magic of J.K. Rowling's _Harry Potter _tales, that have been told from the perspective of another Gryffindor student. See what she goes through during the year of the Triwizard Tournament.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own _Harry Potter _or its characters. They belong to J.K. Rowling.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

1. The Ministry's Mistake

I couldn't believe it. The Quidditch World Cup was today, and I wasn't able going to be able to attend. It was the match between Bulgaria and Ireland. My dad was going though, and I couldn't. The reason I couldn't go was so trivial- one of my past Muggle friends suddenly decided to invite me to another one of her slumber parties again after three years. I think she was trying to make us reunite once more, which was kind, but she didn't make me entirely comfortable.

I had actually run into her again last Christmas; her name was Nelly Nelson. The reason she didn't make me feel entirely comfortable was because she seemed to particularly dislike my newest best friend, poor but pure-blooded witch Ginny Weasley. Nelly also seemed very full of herself- and like Ginny said her new friends probably were too- and I didn't know how I was going to get along with them.

Right now it was morning, though (the Quidditch Cup would take place at night), and I had something else to worry about. Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic _himself _was picking up Father and taking him to the match. Dad had already told me about how he was going to the match- it was a Portkey, something you could touch that would lead you to another place and make you disappear without being spotted by Muggles. He didn't know exactly which Portkey he was using yet, but whatever it was it would surely take him to the match.

I didn't loathe Cornelius Fudge. I was just worrying about him coming because he was so pompous and didn't fancy Muggles much, and of course Mum _was_ a Muggle. I hated seeing them coexist.

"When is he coming, Dad?" I asked in an annoyed tone, running down our magnificent staircase in my finest dress.

"He should have come five minutes ago, Amy-o," Dad replied, checking his watch. He was wearing a pinstriped suit (like Fudge's) and a purple bowler hat (like Fudge's). To me it almost seemed like he was trying to copy his boss's dress style lately. Under his bowler hat his dark brown hair was neatly combed. Of course you couldn't _see_ it.

"The doorbell rang!" called Mum. Just like me, she was wearing her finest clothes. Fudge didn't exactly love her to begin with and she didn't want to seem completely useless (although Dad and I damn well knew she wasn't).

"Oh!" exclaimed Dad merrily.

I looked out the window. "Oh, no," I said quietly.

"What, Ames?"

"He's brought someone _with_ him," I replied. "Lucius Malfoy…and…is that his wife? What is _she_ doing here? What are _they_ doing here?"

"Oh, that's Narcissa," said Dad, slightly frowning. "What is wrong with her face?"

"I don't know," Mum pointed out, "but whatever it is I hope it sticks."

"Wait," I said, "…that's _Draco_. Why isn't he following his parents?" That was most certainly true; the boy who I'd been trying to get over for two years already was just standing there with his arms folded and his expensive broom at his feet.

"I don't know," said Dad. "Boys are quite impatient. Maybe he just wants to get to the Portkey now. Or maybe he's just being stubborn-"

"Or maybe he just doesn't want to step foot in this house," Mum said.

"Oh, wait!" said Dad. "I haven't yet answered the door!" Suddenly Dad woke up and he ran over to the door.

"Hello, Filbert!" cried Fudge's enthusiastic voice. "Is it alright if I brought Lucius and his wife along? You see, they're coming with us, and sitting with us and the Bulgarian Minister in the Top Box! Lucius has just given a very generous contribution to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries! So he's going to be joining us as my guest!"

"Oh, Cornelius, surely you know Lucius and I are the best of friends!" Dad exclaimed. I felt my blood go cold.

"Hello, Filbert," said Lucius. He stepped in the house and I saw him pat my dad affectionately on the back. "Are you excited? Cheering on the Irish, I have no doubt."

"Oh, Lucius, you're too clever!" said Dad, chuckling amiably. "Now Amy and I have been wondering-" (oh no) "- why is Draco standing out there, alone?"

"Oh, _that_," said Lucius, waving away worry with his hand like it was an insect. "He says he'd prefer to be outside then to be in here. He says he can't stand the stuffy air."

_Stuffy_? Like this house was stuffy! What was stuffy was the warm summer air outside! He just didn't want to step foot inside and say hi to me! Nitwit.

"Boys," Dad chuckled, trying to keep a positive expression. "Charlotte, you never met Narcissa, have you?"

"Nice to meet you," said Mum, holding her hand out for Narcissa to shake it.

"Charmed," said Narcissa sarcastically. She looked rather reserved and vain with a tall, slim build and hair so blond it made Mum's golden hair look dull brown. Her face looked as if there was a nasty smell just beneath her nose.

Mum ignored her and looked at Fudge. "Good morning, Cornelius," she said. She knew he didn't like her much but she always made an effort to be polite.

"Oh, hello, Charlotte," said Fudge, avoiding eye contact with her. Then he looked down at me, beaming. "And young Miss Amy! So, what are _your_ plans for tonight, m'dear?" he asked me.

"I really wanted to go, Minister," I began, "but my friend invited me over-"

"The Weasley girl!" Lucius guessed.

"No, not _exactly_," I replied, not about to inform him of my Muggle friend.

"Most peculiar," said Lucius, raising an eyebrow with amusement. "I thought the two of you were the best of friends."

"I can have other friends too," I said, making a face.

"Of course," said Lucius, seeming embarrassed.

"Filbert, may I have a word with you in your downstairs basement?" asked Fudge, putting his arm around my dad's shoulders. The two of them started down the stairs to my dad's private wizarding office.

"Charlotte!" called Dad. "You should show Narcissa out to the garden! Show her what you've planted from the Herbology handbook! Surely you want to show off your efforts at becoming a witch, even in your later years…"

Mum chuckled. "I'm not _trying_ to be a witch," she laughed, "but it's always nice to try new things. Especially when your husband's a wizard. Come on, Narcissa, I'll show you." As the two of them left for the back yard I felt hopeless when I noticed how even my mother's finest dress couldn't compare with Narcissa's robes.

Then I was left alone with Lucius, something I dreaded the most. Another time I had been alone with Lucius was during my first year at Hogwarts when he was going down to Hagrid's to sack him and Dumbledore, and I had been sneaking around the castle. It had been extremely uncomfortable, just as now.

"Amy," said Lucius, grinning, "I am so painfully sorry that you will be missing the Quidditch match. I mean, it _is _a once in a lifetime-"

"I have no control over that, thanks," I said, looking away from him.

"You probably wouldn't have been able to sit with your father anyway, though," said Lucius. He lifted his expensive-looking serpent staff and started poking my shoulder with it. He didn't stop until I finally looked up at him. "All of the Prime Seats have been taken, and they have been reserved for the Ministry-"

"Then is _Draco_ sitting with you?" I asked, pointing out the window at the scowling blond boy. "You know, the brat who won't even walk into a mansion if _one_ Muggle occupies it?"

Lucius frowned menacingly. "I bought a ticket for Draco too, because I _care_ enough to bring my own son, but if your father doesn't care enough to bring his own daughter, that's his choice and there's no changing things."

"He offered me one," I argued, "but my friend invited me over and she wouldn't just change the date of her party for me."

"Do you know that for sure or is it just a guess?"

"Well…an educated guess, sir…nothing's for sure…"

"So insecure," said Lucius, smirking. Then he started pacing up and down the room, his hands folded behind his back. "And for such a pretty girl." He stopped pacing and looked at me when he said this. I shuddered when his cold grey eyes bored into mine. He then walked up to me. I had to look down. "You know, it's a good thing your mother isn't coming tonight. There are going to be Muggles at the campgrounds, and a couple others like myself have a few tricks up our sleeves-"

"You better not hurt them!" I shouted, looking up at him.

He chuckled. "Who said we'd _hurt _them?" he wanted to know. He seemed amused by my threats. "And anyway, they're just _Muggles_-"

"Don't you dare talk about Muggles that way in front of me," I said firmly.

"Now, now, dear, there's no need to be ashamed-"

"I am not ashamed," I said hotly. "I just wish you wouldn't talk about my mum like that. Like she's scum. She's no more scum than _you_ are. At least she's not arrogant or prejudiced or-"

"You know, I'm really tired of you interrupting me and talking back to me, Amy," said Lucius, sneering. "Because there are many things I could tell you, but I choose to keep my mouth shut, out of the goodness of my heart. Because it would probably kill you, since it would crush all the confidence you've got. But pity, you don't have any confidence, do you? I hear Draco's stories, Amy, and you are no poster child of stability."

Now I became really upset. "You don't know _anything_ about me!"

Lucius chuckled cruelly. "On the contrary, Miss Sellick, you would be surprised to know how much I know about you."

I wanted to grab my wand and hex him, but instead I just clenched my fists. I really wanted anyone to come now- anyone! Even Draco! I just didn't want to be alone with such a wretched man anymore! "You know what?" I said. "I'm going out there! I'm going to confront Draco!" I swung the doors open. They slammed against the walls beside them. Draco jumped. "What're you doing out _here_?" I asked.

"You're mad," said Draco, backing away. "Keep away from me."

I pulled my wand from out of my belt. I pointed it at him, as a threat. Even though I was only kidding, "_Expelliarmus_!" Lucius's voice shouted and my wand flew out of my hand. "Out of my way, you insolent girl!" he demanded, grabbing my shoulder and shoving me out of the way to run up to his son. "Draco, are you alright? Did she dare jinx you?"

"Yeah!" Draco lied, sniffling. He always lied at times like these.

"What jinx?"

"She was going to perform the Cruciatus Curse, but luckily you were there to disarm her!" Draco lied, fake tears running down his cheeks.

"Look, I don't even know what that is," I said as Lucius marched menacingly toward me.

"You dare use that curse on him," he growled. "Especially on the day of the Quidditch World Cup. You'll wish you've never been born, girl!" He lifted his wand in the air. "_Cruci_-"

Then Dad came outside, Fudge beside him. Dad was frowning angrily, and Fudge's jaw dropped in alarm. "Lucius!" Fudge cried. "What are you doing?"

Lucius lowered his wand. "Oh! I was just showing young Amy here a defense spell," he lied. I didn't know what he was trying to do with his wand, but he was surely trying to kill me, not teach me a defense spell. "She's actually very clever, so I thought she'd master it straightaway." He lifted his hand in the air and slowly pat me atop the head. I shuddered under his touch.

"That's alright then, Lucius," said Fudge. He was beaming again. Not my dad, though- he looked unconvinced. "Shall we go then?"

"Of course, Minister," said Lucius, smiling. "I'll just have to wait for my wife now." Within minutes Mum and Narcissa returned. "Ah, there you are, Narcissa," said Lucius, putting his hand on the small of his wife's back.  
"Goodbye, Charlotte!" said Fudge merrily. "Amy! We shall see you again- ah- tomorrow! When the match is over! I know Ireland will win! Uh…have to meet with the Bulgarian Minster…surely he won't speak English…damn..." He lifted his broomstick in the air and put all of his portly weight on it. "And off we go! How about it, Filbert? Malfoys?"

Before the Malfoys and Dad mounted their brooms, Lucius growled in my ear, "I hope the Dark Lord returns. Because when he does, _you_ will surely die." I winced when I looked up at him. He just smirked down at me.

"See you next year, Amy!" said Draco. "Not that I want to! Father says it's much better at Durmstrang! There they actually _teach_ the Dark Arts rather than how to fight against them! Oh, and there isn't Mudblood-loving Dumbledore around-"

"Draco," hissed Narcissa. "Not in front of the Muggle." She said that cruelly, just loud enough for my mother to hear. Unfortunately for her it didn't offend Mum though. It never did. Draco smirked as Fudge, the Malfoys, and Dad were off.

"Bye, Amy!" I heard Dad call. I was a bit worried for him, since I'd never seen him look so worried before. Usually he thought that Lucius was a loyal friend, and it probably lowered his spirits when he saw him trying to curse me.

"Bye, Dad!" I called back. I wanted to tell him that everything was alright but he was already too far away. I wouldn't see him until tomorrow.

"Now, Amy," said Mum, "your father has entrusted me with the TeleCam. It is an invention created by the Ministry of Magic. There are supposed to be two, and your dad has the other. While one is taping something, the other one has access to watch whatever the other one is taping."

"Cool," I said. "What is it for?"

"For the Quidditch match," said Mum. She was starting to get her magic terms straight. "It's tiny, clear, and transparent. Stick it inside a simple object- I suggest a tiny, portable mirror- and any time when you're at Nelly's you can sneak in the bathroom, open the mirror, say the spell, and watch the match."

"What's the spell?" I asked interested.

"_Play_," she whispered. "Bring your wand with you, but hide it. Here's your mirror." She handed me my portable mirror. "It's in the reflective part," she assured me. "Your father told me how to dissolve it, so it's completely invisible. What I think is so interesting about it is that it is so small yet it can never run out of room for tape. You bring your wand too. You'd best get changed, dear. Your Muggle friends will find it odd if you're all dressed up."

Hours later I dressed into my old t-shirt and jeans- the kind of outfits I'd wear in my old Muggle school. I also packed an old nightdress. Of course everything was a bit tight on me, but not too much since I was thin. I was just growing so everything was tight. Mum drove me in the car to Nelly's house, which was quite far away from our expensive neighborhood. She lived in a cutesy little house that was near a creek.

"Here goes nothing," I said. I had my sleeping bags (and regular bags, like the one with my portable mirror) in my hands as I walked up the brick sidewalk to the green round door. I knocked twice. Nelly answered the door.

"Hello!" exclaimed Nelly. She was wearing t-shirt and very loose, short shorts. She was wearing her straight blond hair in a very high pony. "Come inside!" I was worried. She was a bit too energetic for my mood. When I stepped inside the house I saw five other small blond girls like herself. They were also wearing high ponies and short shorts. I felt like an outcast. The pale-tall-jeans-wearing-long-haired-brunette outcast. The girls were staring at me in amazement.

"Uh…hi," I said quietly. From the looks of things these girls reminded me of my roommates at Hogwarts (Florence, Veruca, and Madeleine) - which wasn't a good thing since I didn't get along with those three much.

"Are you hungry?" asked Nelly, skipping over to the kitchen. "I can make pizza, you know-"

"Oh, no," I assured her. "I'm sure _I_ can conjure up-" She stared at me in shock, and not much later I realized her friends were too. Then I caught my mistake. I mentioned _conjuring up _something to eat. "No, you just go ahead."

Nelly shrugged, made a humorous face, and took some cheese from the refrigerator. I couldn't help thinking I'd wished I'd had a cauldron…

While the six tiny blond girls were watching television I went to the bathroom with my tiny mirror. I said, "_Play_" when it was opened and the most amazing thing happened; I could see veela (beautiful women with sparkling white skin and silvery long hair) dancing upon the screen. After they were done dancing leprechauns went on the stage and did their thing. This was surely the opening act, where the Bulgarian and Irish mascots were dancing.

"Amy!" shouted Nelly's voice. She had been banging on the bathroom door. "You've been in there for a long time now! Are you alright?"

"_Stop_," I said with my wand. The exciting images in the mirror faded and I closed it. I stuffed it back into my bag. I opened the door. "Sorry," I said.

"It's alright," said Nelly. She looked suspicious. "Are you going to come out now? I have to go, you know."

"Oh, sorry," I said, leaving the bathroom. She didn't say it was alright again.

A few hours later after hearing disturbing ghost stories of Great Britain from the little blond girls I decided to go to the bathroom again. "May I be excused?" I asked. "I had a lot to drink before I got here. My apologies; be back in a jiff."

"Why is she so silent?" one of the girls asked as I left for the bathroom.

"_Play_," I said. It was amazing. The members of the Bulgarian and Irish teams were in the Top Box (where my dad was sitting), and two of the Irish members were holding up the Quidditch World Cup, which had been handed to them by Cornelius Fudge. I was a bit disappointed when I realized I'd missed the whole game. I should have turned down the offer of going to Nelly's slumber party, where I didn't belong anyway. Ginny was right. Sometimes people just move on.

"Amy!" said Nelly, banging on the door again. "We're going to sleep now! Don't hold us up in the bathroom- some of us need to brush our teeth!"

"Oh, sorry," I said. "_Stop_." I closed my mirror shut, opened the door, and saw a line of three girls waiting to brush their teeth. I still needed to also, so I waited in line behind them.

After brushing my teeth and changing into my nightdress I lay in my sleeping bag, wide awake. I knew the Quidditch match was long over, but I decided to go to the bathroom anyway and see if Dad was still taping something. And indeed he was- but it was terrible. A Muggle family was high up in the air as men in masks marched through a field full of tents, lifting their wands and wreaking havoc. One of the marchers flipped the Muggle woman upside down, so her nightdress fell down to reveal her underwear. She struggled to cover herself as the masked men below her laughed cruelly.

The same marcher was also making a very small Muggle child spin like a top sixty feet above the ground. At first I thought this was all a joke, but then I remembered at once what Lucius had said…

_"You know, it's a good thing your mother isn't coming tonight. There are going to be Muggles at the campgrounds, and a couple others like myself have a few tricks up our sleeves-"_

"Oh, no!" I whisper-shouted. He was right; it really _was_ a good thing Mum wasn't there. I was sure that Lucius had been one of the masked men- probably the one disrespecting the woman or torturing the child. He seemed to find much pleasure in hurting Muggles.

"_I'm confused_," I heard Dad's voice say. The camera turned and showed his face now. He looked panic-stricken. "_I'm trying to help the Muggles, but none of the other Ministry members are helping me…they're all drunk…Amy, if you're watching, I am so glad Charlotte isn't here, or you…_"

I wanted to be there though. I wanted to hex Lucius and the other marchers and save the Muggles too. It wasn't fair- they had absolutely no idea what was going on. I didn't want to be here at this dull, quiet sleepover party. I didn't give a damn about Nelly or her five clone friends. There were more important things to do.

"Nelly," I said, making a bold decision. "I have to go. I'm sorry."

"It's too late," said Nelly. "You call your mum, she'll be asleep. What is so urgent that you have to go in the middle of the night?"

"It's really important," I assured her. I didn't even care about changing. I grabbed my bags and opened her door, which was unlocked for whatever reason. Then I left.

"Strange, that one is," I heard one of the tiny blonds say.

I wished I had the broom Dad bought me early in the summer, but I didn't. How was I going to find a Portkey? How many of them were there? I said "_Lumos_" and my wand lit up so I could see in the dark. I tried retracing my steps home. On the way there I picked up any random objects I could find, hoping one could be a portkey. After picking up about twenty objects (some of them very gross indeed, like the trash), I picked up what looked like a fast food restaurant cup…

…And then it happened; I felt as though there was a hook just behind my navel and I had suddenly jerked forward. There was a howl of wind and swirling color. My index finger was stuck to the cup as if I was magnetically attached. I think I had only ever felt so sick in a dream before. Then I slammed down onto the ground. There was an image in the sky- a horrible image. It looked like a colossal skull, comprised of emerald stars, with a serpent protruding from its mouth like a tongue. It rose higher and higher; I didn't know what it was supposed to represent, but whatever it was it made me feel horrible.

"Amy!" called Dad. I looked around for my father. I was noticing that the masked men were fleeing everywhere. "Darling, are you alright?" Dad hugged me. He was in his nightclothes too. I could tell that the masked men had probably awaken everyone in the camps. "Why did you come here?"

"Because I wanted to hex the masked men," I replied. As I said this a short man in a mask flinched and ran off seconds later.

Dad looked around and then said quietly, "Amy, that isn't your job. I know that the Ministry should be on this and they really aren't, but it isn't your business. You're not an Auror. You're just a teenager."

"But I want to help!" I pointed out. "I want to help the Muggles!"

"They'll be okay," Dad assured me, but somehow I wasn't convinced.

"Dad, one of the masked men is Lucius. He told me that he had some tricks in store for the Muggles that were staying on the campgrounds-"

"Well, I've been growing quite suspicious of Lucius lately," Dad agreed, "especially after seeing him about to perform the Cruciatus Curse on you. Or was my mind just playing tricks on me…?" He looked hopeful then, but still worried. "He _was_ just trying to teach you how to defend yourself, _right_?"

"Dad, what's the Cruciatus Curse?" I wanted to know.

He froze. "It's Unforgivable," he said. "That's what. Now let's go, before you get hurt-" We ran through a forest, past a man with a scrubby brown beard. He was making a tiny female house-elf cry. There were people with them, but I didn't even bother to see who they were. "That's Amos Diggory," said Dad. "And there, that's Ludo Bagman. He used to play for the Wasps in Quidditch. And see- that's Barty Crouch. He's extremely important to the Ministry-" I was too vengeful to care about the important people he was pointing out. I wanted to find Lucius.

"Where's Lucius?" I asked, my hands itching to strangle him.

"We can't find him now," said Dad. "There's our Portkey." He pointed down at a baseball cap. "We just touch it and-" We both reached down and touched the hat. After being surrounded by howling winds and swirling colors we returned to the Sellick Manor. I ran upstairs into my bedroom, cried, and fell asleep.

The next day Dad's brown owl Hoot brought home a copy of the _Daily Prophet_. Dad read it out loud at the breakfast table. "_SCENES OF TERROR AT THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP_," he said. "Written by Rita Skeeter…oh, that cow of a woman…"

"Who is she?" Mum wanted to know.

"Some dreadful reporter, one of my colleagues," Dad replied. "Listen to this- _Ministry blunders…culprits not apprehended…lax security…Dark wizards running unchecked…national disgrace…_" He groaned, annoyed. "And now they're blaming Arthur Weasley for something…don't worry, he isn't named…oh, forget Rita. She always tries to find the worst in people, even when it isn't true."

"But she's kind of right," I pointed out. "The Ministry really wasn't trying to help the Muggles as much as they should have."

That week Dad was rarely at home; most of the time he was at the Ministry. Whenever he came home though he would always explain that he and his colleagues received hate mail, such as Howlers (letters that yell at you). They were all complaining about the security at the World Cup. They wanted compensation for their ruined property in their tents too. Dad also had to go into his office on weekends too, for the first time. Everyone was going berserk.

The morning we were supposed to go back to Hogwarts something strange happened. The face of the man with the grubby brown beard (whose name was Amos Diggory) appeared in our fireplace. "Filbert!" called Mum. "Urgent message from the Ministry!"

"It's Mad-Eye Moody, Filbert," said Amos. "His Muggle neighbors heard bangs and shouting. They went and called those…what're-they-called…_please-men_. Come on, Filbert, we've already got Arthur Weasley…"

"How did you hear about it?" asked Dad.

"Real stroke of luck," Amos replied. "I had to come to the office early to send a couple of owls, and I found the Improper use of Magic lot all setting stuff- if Rita Skeeter gets a hold of this one, Filbert-"

"What happened to Mad-Eye?" Dad wanted to know. Who was Mad-Eye?

Amos's head rolled his eyes. "Says he heard an intruder in his yard. He was creeping toward the house, and was ambushed by dustbins."

"What did the dustbins do?"

"Made one hell of a noise and fired rubbish everywhere, I think," said Amos. "Apparently one of them as still rocketing around when the please-men turned up-"

"The intruder…?"

"You know Mad-Eye, Filbert," said Amos, quietly and cautiously. "Someone creeping into his yard in the dead of night? It could be _anything_! But if the Improper Use of Magic gets their hands on him, he's had it- think of his record- we've got to get him off on a minor charge. What are exploding dustbins worth?

"I'll bet he leapt out of bed and started jinxing everything he could reach through the window, but they'll have a job proving it, there aren't any casualties."

"I'm off," said Dad, getting up. "Charlotte, you need to take Amy to King's Cross Station. I'm-"

"Who is Mad-Eye Moody, Dad?" I asked.

"He was a great wizard in his time," Dad replied. "An old friend of Dumbledore's. He's retired; used to work at the Ministry. He was supposedly a great Auror- a Dark wizard catcher. Half the cells in Azkaban are full because of him. He has a lot of enemies because of this, though…the families of the ones he caught…and he's becoming very paranoid. He doesn't trust anyone anymore. Sees the Dark wizards everywhere."

"Sorry about that, Filbert," said Amos. "But before I go, could I have a bit of toast? Charlotte, I do apologize…" Mum put a piece of toast into the fire where Amos's mouth was. "Fanks," he said in a muffled voice. _Pop_! He was gone.

"Goodbye, Amy," said Dad. He hugged me. Then he kissed Mum on the cheek. He grabbed his broom and left.

"I'll drive you to King's Cross," said Mum. "Pack up your things."

I packed up my things, such as my wand, my new Firebolt broomstick, my books, and my owl Silvermist. I got in the car with Mum. When we got to King's Cross Station, I saw Ginny there. She was hugging a redheaded young adult. I figured this was probably one of her older brothers she told me about. By the time I went up to Ginny he was already talking to Fred and George, so he couldn't introduce himself.

"Hey, Ginny," I said.

"Hey!" she replied, giving me a hug. I was so glad to see her since we fell out of touch over the summer. "Did you go to the Quidditch Cup?"

"No," I replied. "But Dad sent me a TeleCam and I was able to watch it." Just the mascots dancing and the winning moment, actually.

"Come on," said Ginny, grabbing my wrist. "Let's find an empty compartment; I really don't feel like sitting with Veruca or her friends today. I mean, it's the morning and I don't want to deal with her _already_."

"Me neither," I agreed. As we ran through the corridors of the Hogwarts Express trying to find an empty compartment we passed three Ravenclaw boys who looked like a grade above us. One of them kept staring at Ginny. He had dark hair and dark eyes, and he looked somewhat surly. Kinda creepy.

"Come on!" Ginny said again, pushing me really hard.

"Ow!" I exclaimed. "What was that for?"

"Look," she replied. She pointed behind her, where I could see Veruca, Florence, Madeleine and the second year Romilda Vane. "I don't want them to see me. You know what they'll do, right?"

"What?" I wanted to know.

"They'll invite me to sit with them!" she replied.

"Oh, right," I said, remembering. We searched and searched and there were absolutely no empty compartments. "I'm sorry," I said.

"No, it's alright," said Ginny. "We'll find one, even if there's only _one_ person in it. We can't just stand up in the corridors the whole time-"

"That's right," said a distant voice. We looked up and saw a girl with long straggly blond hair and protuberant blue eyes. "You can sit with me. I get quite lonesome at times, you know."

"I'm sorry, Luna," said Ginny. "Sure, we can sit with you."

"I'm sorry you feel lonesome at times, Luna," I assured her, a bit worried someone would see us talking to her, "but we're looking for an _empty_ compartment."

"Loony, loony Luna!" I heard some students chant from behind us.

"It's alright," said Luna. "Sometimes feeling lonesome is a good thing. Makes me think."

"We'll sit with her," said Ginny, jabbing me with her elbow. She grabbed my arm and pulled me in Luna's compartment.

"So you've decided," said Luna, looking excited.

"Yes," Ginny replied. I looked down at the ground. I looked up again though when I saw Pansy Parkinson, AnnaSophia Leach, and their other Slytherin friends pointing at us and laughing. With that, I closed the door shut.

When we finally arrived at Hogwarts, after just nodding and saying 'Hmm, is that so?' to everything Luna had to say to us, we sighed for relief. When we stepped out of the train, my relief disappeared because there was a loud rumble of thunder. I winced. "Oh, Amy," said Ginny. "It's just thunder. It won't hurt you."

"Hi, Hagrid!" I shouted when I saw a giant figure in the dark, trying to signal for the first years to come with him to the boats.

"All righ', Amy?" he replied. "See yeh at the feast if we don' drown!"

"I could only imagine crossing the lake in this weather," I said when a hundred horseless carriages stood waiting for us outside the station. Luna, Ginny, and I climbed into one. The doors shut with a snap and with a lurch the long procession of carriages was rumbling and splashing its way up the track toward the Hogwarts Castle.

"Do you ever wonder what's pulling these carriages?" Luna asked.

"No, never thought about it," I replied honestly.

"Well I _did_!" Ginny assured her. "I always thought it was enchanted or something-"

"I know what it is," said Luna. At first I thought she was boasting, but then I realized she didn't say it in a boasting tone of voice. Neither Ginny nor I dared to ask what was pulling the carriages. When we were getting closer to the Hogwarts Castle I saw that dark haired boy staring at Ginny again, and this time he was also staring at me. A bit uncomfortable, I looked away.

I looked up at the gates, which were flanked with statues of winged boars. I flinched again when I saw lightning flash across the sky. I looked over at Ginny, who looked tough and unafraid of the forked flash. Luna, on the other hand however, didn't seem to notice it, since her nose was stuck in one of her books. Her face looked completely calm, serene…as usual.

When we jumped out of the carriage and onto the stone steps of the Castle, looking up only when we safely inside, large, red, water-filled balloons dropped from the ceiling and onto our heads. I looked up and saw who the culprit was- it was Peeves the Poltergeist, a little man in a bell-covered hat and orange bow tie. His wide, malicious face contorted with concentration as he was taking his aim.

"PEEVES!" yelled an angry, familiar voice. It belonged to Professor McGonagall. "Peeves, come down here at ONCE!"

I couldn't hear the rest of their conversation as Ginny and I continued- soaking wet- into the Great Hall. I was so excited. I couldn't wait for a whole new year, no matter how dangerous it would be.

. . . . . . . . . . .

Author's Note: And what Amy doesn't know is that this year is going to be completely different from the two others! Even this early in the book there are mysteries for Amy to solve, like the mystery of Mad-Eye Moody! And what was that skeletal signal in the sky when the campgrounds at the Quidditch World Cup were being attacked? And what was happening there? This year could be far more dangerous than the others, and not just the school year…


	2. The Triwizard Tournament

Author's Note: Review- On the day of the Quidditch World Cup the Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge invited the Malfoys and Filbert Sellick to go with him as guests, but when Lucius tries to perform an Unforgivable Curse on Amy, Filbert starts to change his opinion of his old friend Lucius. Amy watched what was happening at the World Cup on a TeleCam while she was at a Muggle pal's sleepover, and saw that the Death Eaters were attacking the campsite. She begins her third year at Hogwarts.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own _Harry Potter _or its characters. They belong to J.K. Rowling.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

2. The Triwizard Tournament

When Ginny and I sat down at the long Gryffindor table the Gryffindor ghost, Nearly Headless Nick, beamed down at us and said, "Good evening."

"Same to you, Nick," Ginny replied. I just nodded at him.

Then all of a sudden a mousy haired boy in our grade ran up to us. "Hiya, Amy!" he said. "Excited about the new year? I've been told it's going to be splendid!"

"Why, Colin?" I wondered.

"Because…the _surprise_!" he said winking. "Oh. Hi, Ginny. Bye Ginny." Then he took a seat on the other side of me and yelled across the table, "Hiya, Harry!"

"Hi, Colin," Harry said warily.

"Harry, guess what? Guess what, Harry? My brother's starting! My brother Dennis!"

"Er- good."

"He's really excited!" exclaimed Colin Creevey, bouncing up and down in his seat. "I just hope he's in Gryffindor! Keep your fingers crossed, eh, Harry?"

"Er- yeah, all right," Harry said.

"Siblings are usually in the same house, aren't they?" I asked Ginny, since she seemed to be listening too.

"Based on us Weasleys," Ginny began, "most likely. But not always."

I looked up at the High Table. Each and every one of the teachers was a familiar face. This worried me. Were we going to have a Defense Against The Dark Arts teacher this year? That was my favorite class and if there wasn't a teacher we couldn't have the class. Maybe since Remus Lupin quit the job for last year Dumbledore couldn't find anyone new. That was disappointing. Every year Hogwarts seemed to have a new Defense Against The Dark Arts teacher. There was never one who lasted long enough. It seemed likely the job was jinxed or something.

Soon enough the doors of the Great Hall opened and Professor McGonagall was leading a lone line of little first years inside. They looked so sopping wet that they might have even _swam_ across the lake rather than _sail_. The smallest of the lot was a mousy haired boy who resembled Colin, and he was wearing Hagrid's moleskin overcoat. He caught Colin's eye, gave a double thumbs-up, and mouthed _I fell in the lake_! He looked happy about that for some reason.

McGonagall placed a four-legged stool on the ground in front of the first-years. On top of it sat a dirty, old looking hat. I recognized this hat as being the Sorting Hat. Then it opened its mouth and sang, "_A thousand years or more ago, when I was newly sewn, there lived four wizards of renown, whose names are still well known_…

"_Bold Gryffindor, from wild moor, Fair Ravenclaw, from glen, Sweet Hufflepuff, from valley broad, Shrewd Slytherin from fen. They shared a wish, a hope, a dream; they hatched a daring plan, to educate young sorcerers thus Hogwarts School began._

"_Now each of these four founders formed their own House, for each did value different virtues in the ones they had to teach. By Gryffindor, the bravest were prized far beyond the rest; for Ravenclaw, the cleverest, would always be the best; for Hufflepuff, hard workers were most worthy of admission; and power-hungry Slytherin loved those of great ambition._

"_While still alive they did divide their favorites from the throng, yet how to pick the worthy ones when they were dead and gone? 'Twas Gryffindor who found the way, he whipped me off his head; the founders put some brains in me so I could choose instead!_

"_Now slip me snug about your ears, I've never yet been wrong; I'll have a look inside your head and tell where you belong_!"

There was applause when he finished.

"That's not the song it sang when it Sorted us," Harry said to Ron. I had never seen Harry at any of the Sorting ceremonies before, but he had to have been there for his first year to be Sorted.

"Sings a different one every year," said Ron. "It's got to be a pretty boring life, hasn't it, being a hat? I suppose it spends all year making up the next one."

"That's right," said Hermione. "The only reason it sang the same song for our first and second year was because it was having writer's block, you know- from all of the confusion about the Sorcerer's Stone and everything."

"It sang the song two years in a row?" I asked her, confused.

"Hmm hmm," she replied.

After Dennis Creevey was Sorted in Gryffindor he sat down on the other side of his brother. "Colin, I fell in!" he said shrilly. "It was brilliant! And something in the water grabbed me and pushed me back in the boat!"

"Cool!" said Colin, just as excited. "It was probably the giant squid, Dennis!"

"_Wow_!" said Dennis, as if being pushed into a boat by a giant sea monster was the most extraordinary thing that could happen to a person.

"Dennis! Dennis!" cried Colin. "See that boy down there? The one with the black hair and glasses? See him? _Know who he is, Dennis_?"

Dennis's eyes widened with excitement. "_Yes_!" he replied. "It's Harry Potter!"

"And see her- the girl on the other side of me- the tall one with the long brown hair? _That's_ Amy Sellick!" Colin pointed out. "She's the daughter of that man from the _Daily Prophet_! One of the best editors, you know?"

"Yes, I _do_ know!" Dennis said. "Hiya, Amy!"

"Hi," I said, waving.

When the Sorting was over Dumbledore walked up to the front of the High Table and opened his arms wide in welcome. "I have only two words to say to you," he said, his deep voice echoing in the Great Hall. "_Tuck in_."

"Hear, hear!" Harry and Ron said loudly (and a bit immaturely) as the empty dishes in front of them magically filled before their eyes. The same went for us.

Nearly Headless Nick flied up to Ginny and me. "You're lucky there's a feast _at all_," he said. "There was trouble in the kitchens earlier."

"Why?" I wanted to know.

"_Peeves_, no surprise," he replied. "The usual argument, you know. He wanted to attend the feast- which is quite out of the question, since you know what he's like; utterly uncivilized, can't see a plate of food without throwing it at somebody. We held a ghost's council- the Fat Friar was all for giving him the chance- but most wisely, in my opinion, the Bloody Baron put his foot down." The Bloody Baron was a freaky Slytherin ghost- gaunt, silent, and covered in bloodstains, and the only one who could really control Peeves.

"What did Peeves do?" Ginny wondered.

"Well," Nick began, shrugging, "the usual- wreaked havoc and mayhem. Pots and pans everywhere. Place swimming in soup. Terrified the house-elves out of their wits."

"There are house-elves working here in Hogwarts?" I was curious about.

"Certainly," said Nick. "The largest number in any dwelling in Britain, I believe. Over a hundred." I could see Hermione frowning from across the table.

When dessert was finished Dumbledore said, "So! Now that we are all fed and watered, I must once more ask for your attention, while I give out a few notices.

"Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden inside the castle has this year been extended to include Screaming Yo-yos, Fanged Frisbees, and Ever-Bashing Boomerangs. The full list comprises some four hundred and thirty-seven items, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr. Filch's office, if anybody would like to see it.

"As ever, I would like to remind you all that the forest on the grounds is out-of-bounds to students, as is the village of Hogsmeade to all below third year."

Ginny and I smiled at each other. We were so excited- both our parents signed the permission slips to be going to Hogsmeade. This was our first year going there and we were so jumpy about it.

"It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year-" ("_What_?" gasped Harry, Fred, and George.) "-This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teacher's time and energy- but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts-"

The doors of the Great Hall banged open, and we could hear a rumble of thunder. Then there was a clap of lightning. A man stood in the doorway. Every head in the Hall turned to him. When he lowered his hood, we could see he had grizzled, dark gray hair. He started walking toward the High Table, a dull _clunk_ echoing with every step.

When the lightning flashed again I could see his face- it looked terrible, like carved out of weathered wood by someone who had only the vaguest idea of what human faces were supposed to look like. His face was covered in scars, and his mouth had a diagonal gash, and a large chunk of his nose was missing. His eyes were the most frightening though, because one of them was small, dark and beady, and the other was large and round like a coin, and a bright blue. The blue eye moved ceaselessly, without blinking, in all directions. Sometimes it rolled back in his head, so all we could see was whiteness.

When he reached Dumbledore he reached out a hand that was as badly scarred as his face. They talked to each other. The man sat down on Dumbledore's right side. He started eating some food that was before him. His eye was still rolling recklessly around in its socket, looking at each and every one of us.

"May I introduce our new Defense Against The Dark Arts teacher?" said Dumbledore. "Professor Moody." The only two people in the room who clapped were Dumbledore and Hagrid, and it was very quickly. Was _this_ Mad-Eye Moody, the one who Amos Diggory sent my dad a message about?

"What happened to his face?" I asked Ginny, nervously.

"Dunno," Ginny replied. When Mad-Eye lifted an arm to drink, and his cloak lifted, I could see he had a carved wooden leg, ending in a clawed foot.

"As I was saying," said Dumbledore to the students, "we are to have the honor of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event that has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year."

"You're JOKING!" said Fred Weasley loudly. Everyone talked at once now.

"I am _not_ joking, Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore assured him, "though now that you mention it, I did hear an excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag, and a leprechaun who all go into a bar…" _Huh_? I thought. Apparently McGonagall thought the same thing, because she cleared her throat loudly. "Er- but maybe this is not the time…no," Dumbledore continued. "Where was I? Ah, yes, the Triwizard Tournament…well, some of you will not know what this tournament involves, so I hope those who _do _know will forgive me for giving a short explanation, and allow their attention to wander freely.

"The Triwizard Tournament was first established some seven hundred years ago as a friendly competition between the three largest European schools of wizardry: Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang." _Hey, wasn't that the one that Malfoy mentioned_? I asked myself. "A champion," Dumbledore continued, "was to be selected to represent each school, and the three champions competed in three magical tasks. The schools took it in turns to host the tournament once every five years, and it was generally agreed to be a most excellent way of establishing ties between young witches and wizards of different nationalities- until, that is, the death toll mounted so high that the tournament was discontinued." _Death toll? _

"There have been several attempts over the centuries to reinstate the tournament," Dumbledore said, "none of which has been very successful. However, our own Departments of International Magical Cooperation and Magical Games and Sports have decided the time is ripe for another attempt. We have worked hard over the summer to ensure that this time, no champion will find himself or herself in mortal danger.

"The Heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving with their short listed contenders in October, and the selection of the three champions will take place at Halloween. An impartial judge will decide which students are most worthy to compete for the Triwizard Cup, the glory of their school, and a thousand Galleons personal prize money."

"I'm going for it!" exclaimed Fred. I thought that was sad since the Weasleys were very poor, and if anyone needed money it was them. But he wasn't the only one who wanted the fame and glory- the room echoed with many hopefuls.

"Eager though I know all of you will be to bring the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts," Dumbledore continued, "the Heads of the participating schools, along with the Ministry of Magic, have agreed to impose an age restriction on contenders this year. Only students who are of age- that is to say, seventeen years or older- will be allowed to put forward their names for consideration-" (Fred and George looked furious.) "-This is a measure we feel is necessary, given that the tournament tasks will still be difficult and dangerous, whatever precautions we take, and it is highly unlikely that students below sixth and seventh year will be able to cope with them. I will personally be ensuring that no underage student hoodwinks our impartial judge into making them Hogwarts champion." His twinkly blue eyes flickered over at Fred and George. "I therefore beg you not to waste your time submitting yourself if you are under seventeen.

"The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving in October and remaining with us for the greater part of this year. I know that you will all extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with us, and will give your whole-hearted support to the Hogwarts champion when he or she is selected. And now, it is late, and I know how important it is to you all to be alert and rested as you enter your lessons tomorrow morning. Bedtime! Chop chop!"

When Ginny and I went up to the Gryffindor common room, I told the Fat Lady "Balderdash" and we were able to go in. Tired, we climbed the steps to the girls' dormitories. When we arrived in our dorm Veruca, Madeleine, and Florence weren't there yet.

"Whew," said Ginny. "We can actually relax before they arrive."

"Yeah," I agreed. "Especially since it won't last long." As soon as I said that the doors burst open and three irritatingly self-absorbed girls thrust themselves onto their four-poster beds. They immediately started chuckling about boys and some more boys who like Romilda Vane and boys…

"Why must you always talk so loud?" Ginny asked them.

"Gee, sor-_ree_," said Veruca, putting her fists on her hips. "Who are you, Weasley, the _volume police_?"

"No," Ginny growled, "but I like peace in my own dorm room, thanks."

Veruca scowled. "Pity for you," she muttered under her breath.

"No, she's right, Veruca," said Madeleine. "I don't blame her. I think we should best be getting some sleep. Bit tired, aren't you, Amy?"

"Oh, oh yeah," I said, forgetting I was being spoken to at first.

"Alright," said Veruca. "Good night." After changing and using the bathroom and doing what we needed to do, we all drifted off to sleep.

In the morning the storm had blown itself away. The ceiling in the Great Hall was still gloomy though, being gray and all. Ginny, Ron, Harry, Hermione, tomboyish Carly Perry, and I were all examining our schedules. Everyone's owls flew in and passed out letters. And of course Draco Malfoy (who I could never help staring at out of nowhere in the Great Hall), who had his eagle owl on his shoulder, had received a supply of sweets and cakes from home. It made me sick; aristocratic Lucius and narcissistic Narcissa always believed their ridiculously snobbish son always deserved the best when he really didn't…or did he?…

Silvermist pecked me on the shoulder with his little beak. I took the letter and saw it was from Sirius Black. He wrote to me and told me that he and Buckbeak were safe (good!) and that he wished me a happy third year at Hogwarts. Maybe it would be if _Malfoy_ smiling to himself at the Slytherin table wouldn't mess it up!

In Choir practice with Professor Flitwick (who was also the Charms teacher) we sang some songs about _Charms_ spells themselves! In Herbology we had to squeeze things called Bubotubers and collect the pus (DISGUSTING!), because it made an excellent remedy for acne (Stan Shunpike, the conductor of the Knight Bus really needed that). In Potions we were learning how to make Veritaserum, a potion that makes you tell the truth. In Care Of Magical Creatures we had to take care of terrible creatures called skrewts- er- or was it Blast-Ended Skrewts? In Transfiguration we were learning how to transfigure mice into goblets, and in Charms we learned how to summon, by simply just saying _Accio_!

Later in the line for dinner in the Great Hall people were crowded around Malfoy, who was reading articles from the _Daily Prophet_. I came in the middle as he was reading out loud: "_…over a number of highly aggressive dustbins. Mr. Weasley, along with the _Prophet's_ very own editor Filbert Sellick, appear to have rushed to the aid of "Mad-Eye" Moody, the aged ex-Auror who retired from the Ministry when no longer to tell the difference between a handshake and attempted murder. Unsurprisingly, the two men found, upon arrival at Mr. Moody's heavily guarded house, that Mr. Moody had once again raised a false alarm. Mr. Weasley and Mr. Sellick were forced to modify several memories before they could escape from the policemen, but refused to answer _Daily Prophet _questions about why they had involved the Ministry in such an undignified and potentially embarrassing scene_."

Malfoy looked up and smirked. "Did you hear that, Sellick?" he asked, shouting across the room at me. I didn't have a mirror, but I could have sworn I blushed. "Your father- the lunatic! Such a disgrace to the Ministry!" Then he faced Ron, who was much closer to him than I was. "And there's a picture, Weasley! A picture of your parents outside their house- if you can call it a house! Your mother could do with losing a bit of weight, couldn't she?" We all looked at Ron.

"Get stuffed, Malfoy," said Harry. "C'mon, Ron…Ignore him, Amy!"

"Oh yeah, you were staying with the Weasleys this summer, weren't you, Potter?" sneered Malfoy. "So tell me, is his mother really that porky, or is it just the picture?"

"You know _your_ mother, Malfoy?" said Harry. Both he and Hermione were grabbing the back of Ron's robes to hold him back. "That expression she's got, like she's got dung under her nose?" I laughed when he said this. I could relate. Then Harry continued, "Has she always looked like that, or was it just because you were with her?" Everyone around us started laughing.

"It's true, you know," I said to myself.

Malfoy turned pink. "Don't you dare insult my mother, Potter."

"Keep your fat mouth shut, then," said Harry. Just as he turned away Malfoy almost closed his hands around Harry's neck, but then BANG! Several people screamed. Next thing I knew there was a pure-white ferret shaking on the ground right where Malfoy had been standing.

"OH NO YOU DON'T, LADDIE!" Professor Moody was limping down the marble staircase. He was pointing the wand at the ferret. There was a terrified silence in the entrance hall. Nobody but Moody moved. His normal eye was looking at Harry, but his other one was pointed into the back of his head. "Did he get you?" Moody growled at Harry.

"No," said Harry. "Missed."

"LEAVE IT!" Moody shouted.

"Leave- what?"

"Not you- him!" Moody jerked his thumb over his shoulder at Crabbe, who had just frozen, about to pick up the white ferret. Moody's rolling eye could apparently see out of the back of his head. He started limping toward Crabbe, Goyle, and the ferret, which gave a squeak and took off, starting for the dungeons.

"I don't think so!" roared Moody, pointing his wand at it again. It flew ten feet into the air, fell with a smack to the floor, and bounced upward once more. "I don't like people who attack when t heir opponent's back is turned," growled Moody. The ferret bounced higher and squealed with pain as Moody continued, "Stinking, cowardly, scummy thing to do…" The ferret, who was apparently Malfoy, flew through the air, his legs and tail flailing helplessly.

"Never- do - that - again-" said Moody, speaking each word as Malfoy hit the stone floor and bounced upward again.

"Professor Moody!" I heard McGonagall shout. She was coming down the staircase, her arms filled with books.

"Hello, Professor McGonagall," said Moody calmly, still bouncing Malfoy.

"What- what are you doing?" she asked, her eyes following Malfoy.

"Teaching."

"Teach- Moody, _is that a student_?" The books spilled out of her arms.

"Yep."

"No!" She pulled out her wand, and a moment later with a loud snapping noise Malfoy had reappeared, lying on the floor with his sleek blond hair all over his now bright pink face. He got to his feet, shaking.

"Moody, we _never _use transfiguration as a punishment!" cried McGonagall. "Surely Professor Dumbledore told you that?"

"He might've mentioned it, yeah, but I thought a good sharp shock-"

"We give detentions, Moody! Or speak to the offender's Head of House!"

"I'll do that, then," said Moody, looking at Malfoy with burning hatred in his normal eye, and maybe even his rolling one.

"One-eyed freak," Malfoy spat. "Just wait till I tell my father-"

"Oh yeah?" said Moody, limping forward a few steps. The dull clunks from his wooden leg kept echoing around the hall. "Well, I know your father of old, boy…You tell him Moody's keeping a close eye on his son…you tell him that from me…Now, your Head of House'll be Snape, will it?"

"Yes," said Malfoy resentfully.

"Another old friend," growled Moody. "I've been looking forward to a chat with old Snape…Come on, you." He seized Malfoy's upper arm and marched him off toward the dungeons. Yes. I wouldn't be seeing Malfoy at dinner now.

Fred and George Weasley, and Lee Jordan all came up from behind Ginny and me. "Now is Moody cool or _what_?" said Fred, placing his elbows on each of our shoulders.

"_Amazing_," said George, nodding his head in agreement.

"He's the coolest guy ever!" Lee agreed. "Cooler than that Lupin-"

"We had him this afternoon," added Fred.

"What was it like?" asked Ginny.

"Never had a better lesson," George replied.

"He _knows_, man," said Lee.

"Knows _what_?" I wanted to know.

"Knows what it's like to be out there fighting the Dark Arts," Lee replied.

"He's seen it all," added George.

"Well, we have him tomorrow," Ginny pointed out, excited. Sure, this guy sounded cool, but he couldn't be better than Lupin…could he be?

The next day (where Ginny and I couldn't help looking up at Snape at the High Table, who looked a bit nervous around Moody), we were so ecstatic about going into Moody's class that we got there especially early. We wanted to see exactly what was so 'cool' about this freaky-looking man.

"I'd put those away," Moody suggested, staring at _The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection, Grade Three _books Ginny and I had on our desks. "You won't be needing them." We put our books back in our bags. As Moody took role call he stared down at the list with his normal eye, looking at us with his magical one.  
"Right then," he said. "I've had a letter from Professor Lupin…about what he's taught last year. You've covered boggarts, Red Caps, hinkypunks, grind lows, Kappas, and werewolves, is that right?"

"Yessir," everyone replied, speaking at different speeds and timing.

"But you're behind- very beyond- on dealing with your curses," said Moody. "So I'm here to bring you up to scratch on what wizards can do to each other. I've got one year to teach you how to deal with Dark-"

"_One_ year?" shouted Colin Creevey.

Moody smiled at him, making his scarred face look even more twisted. "Yeah, I'm staying just the one year. Special favor to Dumbledore. One year, and then I get back to my retirement. And you-" I wasn't paying attention, but since he took a very long pause before continuing his statement, I decided I'd look up.

"Yes?" I said.

"You'll be Filbert Sellick's daughter, eh?" Moody said. "Your father got me out a very tight corner just recently. And yours too, Miss Weasley. Don't say I can't recognize a Weasley when I see one. Your fathers were very helpful, you two."

"Um…thanks," I said, looking at Ginny, who was sitting at the edge of her seat, looking up at Moody with wide, staring brown eyes.

"No, thank _you_!" Moody exclaimed, laughing harshly. Ginny jumped in her seat now. Moody then clapped his gnarled hands together. "So- back to the Curses!" he announced. "They come in many strengths and forms. Now, according to the Ministry of Magic, I'm supposed to teach you counter curses and leave it at that. I'm not supposed to show you what illegal Dark curses look like until you're in the sixth year. You're not supposed to be old enough to deal with it till then.

"But Professor Dumbledore's got a higher opinion of your nerves, he reckons you can cope, and I say, the sooner you know what you're up against, the better. How are you supposed to defend yourself against something you've never seen? A wizard who's about to put an illegal curse on you isn't going to tell you what he's about to do. He's not going to do it nice and polite to your face. You need to be prepared. You need to be alert and watchful. You need to put that way, Miss Tolliver, when I'm talking."

Florence jumped, startled. She was reading a note that she apparently had been passing with Veruca, since Veruca looked nervous too. "What?" she said.

"Here," said Moody. "Give that to me."

Florence, reluctantly, walked over to Moody's desk, her hand with the note in it, shaking. "I'm sorry," she said. Moody didn't tell her it was okay though. She winced as he snatched it from her.

Moody studied the piece of parchment. "See here, Miss Ambry," he began, his normal eye looking down at the note, and his magical eye staring at Veruca. "Now, this is a _lovely_ picture of Mister McFadden there." When he said that, everyone looked up across the room at Landon, who looked deeply confused. Moody was now looking at both Veruca and Florence. "Now if you two think he's so incredibly handsome then why don't you tell him yourselves?" The two girls blushed, but Landon looked appalled.

"Ha ha!" Ginny laughed. Several other people joined in with her laughter.

"Write notes, kids, I read them to the class," Moody threatened. "Now you've been warned. Damn it…where was I? Ah, yes! Do any of you know which curses are most heavily punished by wizarding laws?" Many of the students raised their hands. "Yes, Mr. Seyfried?"

"I heard of one…" John replied, thinking. "The…_Imperius_ _Curse_?"

"Ah, yes," said Moody appreciatively. "Gave the Ministry a lot of trouble at one time, that Imperius Curse." He opened his desk drawer and took out a glass jar, with three large black spiders scuttling around inside it. He reached into the jar, caught one of the spiders, and held it in the palm of his hand so everyone could see it. He pointed his wand at it and muttered, "_Imperio_!"

"What's he doing to it?" I asked Ginny, as the spider leapt from Moody's hand, and started doing flips, landing on a desk, and cart wheeling in circles. When Moody jerked his wand, the spider rose onto two of its hind legs and went into what was unmistakably a tap dance. Everyone was laughing, except for me of course.

"Think it's so funny, do you?" Moody growled. "You'd like it, would you, if I did it to you?" The laughter died, and I didn't blame everyone. I shuddered. That was kind of creepy. "Total control," said Moody quietly as the spider balled itself up and began to roll over and over. "I could make it jump out the window, drown itself, throw itself down one of your throats…

"Years back, there were a lot of witches and wizards being controlled by the Imperius Curse." I guessed this was when Lord Voldemort was all-powerful. "Some job for the Ministry," Moody continued, "trying to sort out who was being forced to act, and who was acting of their own free will.

"The Imperius Curse can be fought, and I'll be teaching you how, but it takes real strength of character, and not everyone's got it," he said. "Better avoid being hit with it if you can. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" Everyone jumped when he barked this. I felt unsettled. A curse where you could lose all control of your own mind and body! Moody picked up a somersaulting spider and threw it back into the jar. "Anyone else know one? Another illegal curse?"

I did, I thought…The day of the Quidditch World Cup match, when Draco told Lucius that I was going to perform the Cruciatus Curse…before I even thought it through I raised my hand in the air.

"Yes, Miss Sellick?" he said.

"Does the Cruciatus Curse count?" I asked.

"Yes, it does, girl!" he replied. "The spider needs to be bigger for you to get the idea. _Engorgio_!" The spider swelled. It was now larger than a tarantula. Tons of people flinched in their seats, including me. "_Crucio_!" At once, the spider's legs bent in upon its body; it rolled over and began to twitch horribly, rocking from side to side. No sound came from it, but I was sure it would have been screaming if it had a voice. The spider started to shudder and jerk more violently…

Then I got the idea- the Cruciatus Curse was a _torture_ curse! I relived the memory of Lucius Malfoy lifting his wand and beginning to say '_Crucio_!' to me (in my mind), and I shuddered when I pondered that he was trying to _torture_ me! Had Cornelius Fudge and Dad not been there, I would have been curling up in a ball, clutching my sides, and moaning…just like the helpless spider…

"Professor Moody," I said, my voice barely even coming out in a whisper, so I spoke louder now. "_Professor Moody_, we get the idea."

Moody raised his wand, and the spider's legs relaxed, but it continued to twitch. "_Reducio_," he muttered. It shrank back to its proper size. He put it back into the jar. "Pain," said Moody softly. "You don't need thumbscrews or knives to torture someone if you can perform the Cruciatus Curse…That one was very popular once too. Right…anyone know any others?"

Ginny raised her hand. Moody nodded. "_Avada_ _Kedavra_," Ginny whispered.

"Ah," said Moody, a slight smile twisting his lopsided mouth as several people in the room gasped nervously. "Yes," Moody continued, "the last and worst. _Avada Kedavra_…the Killing Curse." He pulled another frantic spider from out of the glass jar and placed it on the desk. It started scuttling around in fear. "_Avada Kedavra_!" Moody roared. There was a flash of blinding green light and a rushing sound. The unmarked but unmistakably dead spider skidded across the desk, startling most of the girls in the room.

"Not nice," Moody said calmly as he picked up the dead spider and held it in his hand. "Not pleasant. And there's no counter curse. There's no blocking it. Only one known person has ever survived it, and they go to this very school…and they're inside the castle at this very minute." Of course that was obviously _Harry Potter_, who survived Lord Voldemort's dark curse thirteen to fourteen years ago.

"_Avada Kedavra's_ a curse that needs to be powerful bit of magic behind it- you could all get your wands out now and point them at me and say the words, and I doubt I'd get so much as a nosebleed. But that doesn't matter. I'm not here to teach you how to do it. Now, if there's no counter curse, why am I showing you? _Because you've got to know_. You've got to appreciate what the worst is. You don't want to find yourself in a situation when you're facing it. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" he roared. The whole class jumped again.

"Now…those three curses- _Avada Kedavra_, Imperius, and Cruciatus- are known as the Unforgivable Curses. The use of any one of them on a fellow human being is enough to earn a life sentence in Azkaban. That's what you're up against. That's what I've got to teach you to fight. You need preparing. You need arming. But most of all, you need to practice _constant_, _never-ceasing_, _vigilance_. Get out your quills…copy this down…"

We spent the rest of the period taking notes on each of the Unforgivable Curses. We didn't speak until the bell rang. Later in the Gryffindor common room Ginny was telling Hermione and Carly. "It was inspiring," she told them, excitedly. "He's such a meaningful guy…he's been through a lot, you know…he's great…"

"What did he teach?" Carly was delighted to know.

"The Unforgivable Curse," Ginny replied in a hushed voice.

I didn't join in in their little conversation. Instead, I was just sitting on one of the satin couches, thinking. I was too busy thinking about how much I hated Lucius, and how scary it would have been if he actually got to perform the Cruciatus Curse on me. What would have happened to me? Would I have needed a stay at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries? And what if he turned around after that and just performed the _Avada Kedavra _curse on me? I always knew he'd never been trustworthy, but I never worried about him _this_ much…

. . . . . . . . . . . .

Author's Note: Uh oh, Lucius is really _bad_! Just imagine if Fudge and Mr. Sellick _hadn't_ been there to rescue Amy! Would Amy just become another victim of one of Voldemort's followers' Unforgivable Curses? Starting her third year at Hogwarts, Amy is curious about a few things, including the mysterious Professor Mad-Eye Moody, who seems to have a scarred appearance, and the Triwizard Cup competition, which seems to be the most central event of the new year.


	3. The Two Other Schools

Author's Note: Review - Professor Albus Dumbledore has announced to the students of Hogwarts that there is going to be a major event going on during the school year called the Triwizard Tournament, so the school is all excited. But Amy is more suspicious about the new Defense Against The Dark Arts teacher, Mad-Eye Moody, to care. He has just taught her and her classmates about the three Unforgivable Curses, and she believes Lucius Malfoy tried to perform one of them on her before.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own _Harry Potter _or its characters. They belong to J.K. Rowling.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

3. The Two Other Schools

Nothing extraordinary happened the rest of that day. Two days later, on Thursday, however, I was beginning to become curious about my friends in the higher grades. They pretty much seemed no-nonsense, especially Fred and George Weasley, which was very unexpected for them. In the Gryffindor common room I asked them what was up.

"Can you keep a secret, Amy?" George asked me in a hushed whisper.

"What is it?" I said.

"Well," Fred began, "since you're so quiet-" _Thanks, _I thought, "-and you probably wouldn't breathe a word, George and I here want to clue you in."

"What is it?" I asked, scooting closer to them.

"Well," Fred said when he noticed George was too busy writing something on his piece of parchment, "you've heard of Ludo Bagman, the head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports, right?"

I nodded. "Didn't he play for the Wimbourne Wasps?" I wanted to clarify.

"We've ourselves a winner!" said George, looking up quickly from his work.

"Sure he did," Fred assured me, winking. Then his expression became serious again. "Well, when we talked to him on the day of the Quidditch World Cup, we made a bet Ireland would win but Viktor Krum (of Bulgaria) would catch the Snitch, and we won, so he paid us, but with_ leprechaun _money."

"And leprechaun money _disappears_!" George added in outrage. "We think it might have been an accident, so we're writing him a letter."

"If he replies, he'll realize his mistake, and cough up," Fred explained.

"But if he doesn't…" George began.

"…it had been on purpose," Fred pointed out.

"Blimey," I said. "I really hope Bagman gives you the money you deserve."

"He better," said Fred, "because we're going to blackmail him if he doesn't."

I widened my eyes in alarm. "Well, I wish you luck," I said, walking off to join Neville, who was reading a book all by himself. "What's up, Neville?" I asked. "You look so sad…and worried about something..."

"Oh, rubbish!" Neville replied, his voice a bit unsteady. "I'm quite alright, thanks! I'm just reading this book Professor Moody lent me; I find it quite interesting, you know." He held it up in the air for me to read its title. It was called _Magical Water Plants of the Mediterranean_. "Apparently Professor Sprout told Professor Moody I was really good at Herbology," he said. "So he suggested I read this."

"Well, that was very nice of them," I said, feeling a lump in my throat forming. It _was_ nice. Neville had rarely been told he was ever good at anything. It was something Professor Lupin would've done, for _he_ would have told him he was talented too. "Goodbye," I said. He waved before I walked over to Harry and Ron.

"Oh, hello, Amy," said Harry, looking up from his homework.

"Yeah, hi," said Ron, looking at me with wide and staring eyes, as if he were looking at me from a new perspective, like I'd been beautiful. That was odd; I had seen him many times lately, and him me. What was so different about me now?

"Uh…hi," I said, my voice lowering a bit, very confused. "What are you two working on?"

"Divination homework-" Harry began.

"Yeah!" Ron said a little loudly, hopping to his feet. "Basically we're just making up our futures as we go! Bit tired, you know."

"Yea, I can see that," I assured him. "And sorry to tell you guys this, but I'm quite pleased with myself I dropped Divination. That looks like a lot."

"Lucky you," said Harry with an eye roll, as Ron sat back down in his couch.

"Bye, guys," I said. Just as I turned around to start off, Hermione Granger jumped up in my face. I realized it was her even before I could make out her face since I recognized her giant, bushy hair at once.

"Hello, Amy," she said. "I've just finished!" She was holding a sheaf of parchment in one hand and a box with rattling contents in another. Crookshanks, her fat cat was purring from behind her.

"Uh…finished _what_, Hermione?" I was curious to know.

"_This_!" she replied. She took off the lid of the box and revealed about fifty badges, all of different colors, but all had the same letters: S.P.E.W.

"Okay, alright," I said nodding. "So what's _'Spew'" _When I said this Ginny came up from behind me, holding books in her arms. She looked curious.

"_Spew_?" Hermione repeated loudly with snort. "It isn't _spew_, Amy. It's S-P-E-W. Stands for the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare."

"I'm sorry, Hermione," Ginny said out of nowhere, "but I'm not sure if I want to walk around wearing a badge with the word 'spew' on it, thanks."

Hermione groaned. "S-P-E-W!" she corrected. "I was going to put _Stop the Outrageous Abuse of Our Fellow Magical Creatures and Campaign for a Change in Their Legal Status_- but it wouldn't fit. So that's the heading of our manifesto."

"What's this about?" Carly asked, coming up from behind Hermione all of a sudden next. Apparently she'd been listening the whole time.

"It's about the mistreatment of house-elves," Hermione replied, turning around and facing her. "It's slavery, you know." Then at once I realized why Hermione had been frowning in the Great Hall the first night at Hogwarts this year when Nearly Headless Nick mentioned the hundreds of house-elves in Britain. Then I thought about Dobby, the Malfoy's old house-elf. I knew how badly they were mistreated. Immediately convinced, I snatched a badge from Hermione's box.

"I'm with you, Hermione," I said, pinning the badge to my shirt. "I agree; the house-elves are _very_ badly mistreated. I know all about Dobby and the Malfoys…I know what they go through…"

Hermione flashed me a satisfied smile. "Thank you, Amy," she said. "And since you were so cooperative, even though the price to buy the badge had originally been two Sickles, I'll let you have it for _free_." Then she turned to Ginny. "What about you?" She shoved the box in her face.

"No thanks, Hermione," Ginny replied, backing away from the box as if it was a jinxed object. "If the word _spew_ wasn't enough, I think it's utterly pointless. House-elves like work, don't they?"

"Your brothers are telling you rubbish," said Hermione, scowling. "And for the thirtieth and final time, it's S-P-E-W! What about you, Carly?"

"Sure, whatevs," Carly replied, her eyes widened in shock from how loud Hermione had gotten. "I'll take one." She took a badge from Hermione's box. She reached into her pocket and pulled out two Sickles, and handed them to Hermione. I could tell she really wasn't serious about it; she just wanted to help her friend.

"You're missing out," Hermione said quickly to Ginny. Just before she marched off she grabbed Carly's wrist and started toward Ron and Harry.

"I'm going to bed," Ginny announced with a yawn. I followed her to the staircase that led to the girls' dormitories.

The next morning I went up to the circular, stone Owlery room. It was always cold and drafty since none of the windows had glass in them. The floor was entirely covered in straw, owl droppings, and regurgitated skeletons of mice and voles. There were hundreds and hundreds of owls of every breed imaginable nestled on perches that rose right up to the top of the tower. When I got there I wasn't the only one; Harry was also there, giving his snowy white owl Hedwig a letter.

"Just find him, all right?" Harry said, stroking her back as he carried her on his arm to one of the holes in the wall. "Before the dementors do." I gulped. Dementors were terrible, hideous hooded creatures that would suck all of the happiness out of you (and sometimes even your very soul). Then I knew who Harry was writing to- Sirius Black. Hedwig nipped his finger, hooted reassuringly and flew into the sunrise.

"Harry!" I cried. He turned around. "I didn't expect to see you here," I said.

"I didn't expect to find _you_ here," Harry pointed out.

"I need to send a letter to my parents," I pointed out, walking closer to him. "Oh, and I need to send one to Sirius Black too."

Harry stumbled backward. "You- you said-"

"Yes, Harry," I said. "I know the truth about Sirius, and Remus allowed me and Sirius the proper introduction not too many months ago. He's been writing to me too, keeping me up-to-date with the conditions of him and Buckbeak."

"Really?" said Harry, looking a bit worried. Then he frowned. "You're not pulling anything funny, are you?"

"Of course not!" I replied startled. Harry had never become angry with me before. "I'm telling the truth!" Apparently I had looked sincere enough since his livid expression faded.

"Sorry," he said. "It's just that-"

"I know, Harry," I said. "Nobody really understands Sirius, do they?" I handed my owl, Silvermist, my two letters. He flew off into the sunrise just as Hedwig did. "How about we both go down to the Great Hall together?"

"Alright," said Harry. So we started down. "Can I tell you something, Amy," he began, "since you're so nice and you wouldn't tell a soul?"

"Yes," I replied. I knew I was the one to tell, according to Fred Weasley.

"I've been having…peculiar dreams lately," Harry said quietly. "Ones about Lord Voldemort. But I'm not so sure they're dreams though. I think they might be really happening, since every time I wake up, my scar is burning."

"Oh, my!" I said, clasping my hand to my mouth. I wasn't too pleased to hear this. I was never too pleased to hear anything about Lord Voldemort, but these types of things were the worst. These were hints- implications- that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was becoming strong again! "Did you tell Sirius-?"

"Yea," said Harry with a snort. "I told him, and now he's telling me he's going to be flying north- _here_- _immediately_ to come to my rescue. So I kind of exaggerated and told him need not worry about me; I just imagined my scar had been hurting. I can't risk him coming here and having the dementors find him."

"That's terrible, Harry!" I said. "You mustn't lie to him!"

"But it's for his own protection," Harry argued. "If he comes down here, thinking that I'm all hurt, he's risking his own life."

When we went down to the Great Hall Ginny looked up at the entrance, turning a bit green. She stared at us with wide eyes until I sat down next to her and Harry sat with Ron, Hermione, and Carly a couple people away. "What was that about?" she asked me. "Why were you two late together?"

"We were both up at the Owlery," I replied.

"By coincidence?" she asked suspiciously, turning pale.

"Yes," I assured her. "Completely."

Nothing happened for the next couple of weeks. Nothing, that was, until the day where Hagrid kept Ginny and me a few minutes after class to chase the Blast-Ended Skrewts back into their cages, even though in the end it was really _him_ who was able to complete that task.

"Thank yeh, girls," he said, rubbing his hands together. Thanks to the skrewts, they had been stung, bitten, and even burnt. "Ruddy little creatures, them. Can't wait for ano'er lesson, tomorrow, right?"

"Right," Ginny and I said together, wearily. I looked at Ginny. Her nose had been pinched by a skrewt's claw, making it look red and hurt. Her face had also been covered in mud from when she fell onto the ground when chasing one. I couldn't tell exactly how I looked at that moment, but I knew it hadn't been nearly as bad as the way she looked. After all, she had been doing far much more work than I had been.

This wasn't the major thing that happened today though. Skrewts really weren't that fascinating (except for the fact every lesson there seemed to be less of them than there had been the lesson before; coincidence, I _don't_ think). The major thing that happened was the lesson in Defense Against The Dark Arts, which we were late for. Professor Moody looked alarmed as we thrust the doors open.

"Whoa, there!" he cried, pointing his wand up at the doors. When he saw it was us he lowered his wand. "Merlin's beard, ladies!" he gasped, clutching his chest. "I thought you- you thrust the doors open, you- never barge in here like burglars ever again! Almost gave me a heart attack! Could've killed you-"

"Please, sir," Ginny began, "it was Hagrid. He kept us late after class. He wanted us to help him put his skrewts back into their cages, you see."

"I'll have to have a word with him later," Moody began, "but no matter now. Now we were just in the middle of the lesson which you two so rudely interrupted, but I am giving you permission to join in."

"Thank you, sir," Ginny said taking her seat. I nodded at Moody as I took mine. When we looked up we could see Veruca pretending to be a bunny rabbit. She was down on her knees, sniffing the air.

"Do my eyes deceive me?" I asked, a bit alarmed. At first I found the sight quite funny, but then I realized there had been something wrong with it. This was because she was being controlled by Mad-Eye Moody's wand.

"Oh, my," said Ginny. "And at first I thought it was funny-"

"Sellick!" said Moody. I immediately froze. "Weasley!" he said next. She froze after me. "You see what your friends are doing here?" he asked us. "I'm performing the Imperius Curse on each and every one of you, seeing which of you know how to break it."

"Is that even legal in school?" Ginny asked me quietly.

"Weasley, you're next!" Moody snapped.

Ginny looked at me with a frightened expression. "I'm after you," I reminded her. She nodded. It was quite disturbing what I had seen next. Moody had been making Ginny do a dozen somersaults on a desk. Then she leaped into the air and did three perfect flips in the air.

"I'm a bit worried in you kids, a bit," said Moody. "None of you seem to have what it takes to fight off the Imperius Curse. Wouldn't be a good thing if the enemy were performing it on you today, it wouldn't. Maybe you can prove me wrong, Sellick. Do you have what it takes?"

I froze. "I…I don't think so, sir," I said. "I'm not any different-"

"Ah, but you're the daughter of Filbert Sellick, girl!" he reminded me, smiling a twisted smile.

"People overstate my abilities, sir," I pointed out.

"Come to the front of the room now, lass!" he demanded, waving me over. As reluctant as I was, I obeyed. Now wasn't the time to make enemies- especially when they were about to perform the Imperius Curse on you.

"Do I just stand here?" I asked, as I stood in the middle of the room where the desks had been cleared.

"Yeah, yeah," said Moody. "Just stand there and-" I closed my eyes shut and became very stiff. "I didn't even perform the curse yet!" he pointed out harshly. "What are you tensing for?"

"Sorry, sir," I said, opening my eyes. "I'm just a bit scared-"

"It won't hurt, Amy," he assured me. "Trust me, it might even feel _good_."

I relaxed a bit. I didn't even flinch when Moody lifted his wand and said, "_Imperio_!" Then the most wonderful feeling came over me. It was a floating sensation, and every thought and worry in my head was wiped gently away, leaving nothing but a vague, untraceable happiness. I didn't even care that everyone in the room had been looking at me.

And then I heard Moody's voice echoing in some distant chamber of my empty brain: _Dance around the room and strike some ballet poses_. I moved into first position (I haven't done this position in a very long time since I had last taken ballet lessons as a little girl) and was ready to leap around the room. _Leap. Jump. Act as if you are a graceful swan_.

Just as I was about to glide around the room like a graceful swan, another voice came into my head. _Why_?, it asked. _Why should I? Why do you have so much power? Why do I need to listen to you_?

_Leap around the room, I say_! That was Moody's voice again. He was beginning to sound more furious now. _Leap, now_!

_ I don't think so, thanks_, I replied. _I'm afraid I just don't want to. It's such a silly thing to do, really. If you want me to do it so much, why don't you try_?

Then the next thing I felt was considerably painful. I had both leaped and tried to prevent myself from leaping, and the result was that I had twisted both ankles as I collapsed to the hard floor. It startled me, since at first I had felt so weightless, and now I could feel my weight again.

"Now, _that's_ more like it!" Moody growled. I felt the empty, echoing feeling in my head disappear. I remembered what exactly had been happening. "Look at that, you buffoons!" Moody cried to the other students. "Sellick fought! She fought it, and she damn well beat it too! We'll try that again, Sellick, and the rest of you pay attention! Watch her eyes- that's where you see it! Excellent, Sellick! A job very well-done! With a strong will such as yours I can't imagine anyone being able to control you!"

"Sure," I said quietly as I let him perform the curse again. And just like before, I was able to fight it off again. I met up with Ginny at the end of class. "You hear the way he talks, right?" I asked of Moody. "Like we're going to be attacked in any second?"

"Yes," Ginny agreed with an eye roll. "He's so paranoid. Haven't you heard of the story about what he did to the witch who shouted 'Boo' behind him on April Fool's Day?"

For the next few weeks nothing much happened, except for the fact we had a heavy workload. Flitwick was still teaching us our Summoning Charms (just saying 'Accio'; what's so hard and challenging about that?), Professor Binns was teaching us about troll attacks in London in the nineteenth century, Professor Snape was forcing us to research antidotes (and he even hinted he might be poisoning someone before Christmas to see if the antidote worked), Hagrid was continuing to make us take lessons on the Blast-Ended Skrewts, and Professor McGonagall was teaching us how to transfigure tables into bookshelves.

One day at the entrance hall I found a whole bunch of people standing around a large sign that had been erected at the foot of the marble staircase. "I can't see!" Ginny cried. Apparently she had noticed it too. She was much too short and couldn't see above anyone's heads, so she was jumping in the air on her tiptoes.

"I can't either!" I complained. As tall as I was, I wasn't as tall as some boys and most of the older students. I tried to push my way through the crowd, but then _Smack_! I bumped into someone at full force. "Oh, sorry!" I cried. "I-"

"It's alright," the person replied. It was a boy's voice. I looked up at their face. It was the dark-haired, dark-eyed, forbidding-looking Ravenclaw boy from the Hogwarts Express. Even though he said it was alright, I wasn't sure if it really had been since he was frowning.

"I'm Amy Sellick," I said out of nowhere, confused at once afterward.

"Michael," he replied, smiling a twisted smile. Even though he was smiling now it just seemed kind of cold and not entirely genuine. "Michael Corner."

"Hi, Michael," I said awkwardly just before he walked away. Ginny ran to my side now. Then she read the sign out loud (I had almost forgotten about the sign).

"'_Triwizard Tournament'_'," she began. "_The Delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving at 6 o'clock on Friday the 30__th__ of October. Lessons will end half an hour early. Students will return with their bags and books to their dormitories and will assemble in front of the castle to greet our guests before the welcoming feast._"

"Only a week away!" I heard a Hufflepuff kid named Ernie Macmillan say, emerging from the crowd, his eyes gleaming. "I wonder if Cedric knows? Think I'll go and tell him…"

"Cedric Diggory?" I said out loud to absolutely no one in particular.

"Probably," Ginny replied.

"Hey, your dad knows Amos Diggory, right?" I asked her.

"Yes," said Ginny.

"Is he-?"

"Yes, Amy. Amos is Cedric's father."

"Cool," I said, nodding excitedly. I couldn't believe that my dad was close friends with Cedric's. No wonder Cedric knew who I was during my first year at Hogwarts. All these years I could have been Cedric's friend and I could have gotten to know him better. He was a very handsome Hufflepuff boy with a straight nose, dark hair, and gray eyes. Two words: _unattainable_ and _off-limits_.

"Speaking of Cedric…" said Ginny, smiling mischievously. I looked over and saw Ernie speaking to Cedric, who looked very excited. Cedric had dark hair and beautiful twinkling gray eyes… "I reckon he's going to try out for the Triwizard Tournament," Ginny pointed out.

"Me too," I said. "Come on. Let's go." We started out of the crowd. When we were finally able to make it out alive _Smack_! "Ugh!" I exclaimed. "I am so tired of this! I wish people would stop bumping into me and-"

"Amy, shut it," said Ginny.

"Why should I shut it?" I wanted to know.

"Um, sorry, Amy," said a lovely voice. "I didn't mean to. It's just this crowd and…" I looked up. It was Cedric. I had been too busy staring up at his face to listen to the rest of his sentence. He looked genuinely sorry (something Michael Corner didn't). I was pleasantly surprised; Cedric had never said more than two words to me before pretty much.

"No, _I'm_ sorry," I assured him, not letting him finish. "_I'm_ the clumsy one; you shouldn't apologize…Hey, are you trying for that Triwizard thing?"

"Yes, I think so," he replied.

"Well, I hope you win," I told him, even though I really didn't care whether he'd win or not. I just wanted to build a better relationship with him.

"Thanks," he said, smiling. "Bye, Amy."

"Bye," I said, watching him as he left.

For the next week everyone only spoke of the Triwizard Tournament. The castle was squeaky-clean, thanks to Argus Filch, the caretaker, who terrified a pair of first-year girls into hysterics even when they just forgot to wipe their shoes. On the morning of the thirtieth of October we found the Great Hall had been decorated the night before. There were enormous silk banners hanging from the walls, each representing a Hogwarts House: red with a gold lion for Gryffindor, blue with a bronze eagle for Ravenclaw, yellow with a black badger for Hufflepuff, and green with a silver serpent for Slytherin. Behind the teacher's table the largest banner of all bore the Hogwarts coat of arms: lion, eagle, badger, and snake united around a large letter H.

"It's pathetic, really," Fred whispered to me as we started toward the Gryffindor table. "He's ignoring us."

"Ludo Bagman?" I asked. Fred nodded.

"It's a bummer, all right," George agreed gloomily. "But if he won't talk to us in person, we'll have to send him the letter after all. Or we'll stuff it into his hand. He can't avoid us forever."

"Who's avoiding you?" Ron asked them as we all took our seats.

"Wish you would," said Fred, looking irritated at his brother.

"Hey, Sellick!" I heard someone shout. I looked over at the Slytherin table. It was Pansy Parkinson. She and her gang of Slytherin girls were snickering into their hands. "Why does your badge say _spew_ on it?"

"Yeah!" called her best friend AnnaSophia Leach. "Did you finally find out the truth about yourself? Took you long enough, eh?"

"Ignore them," said Hermione. "I'm not even going to bother mentioning to them that it's S-P-E-W. Because they're not even worth it." And Hermione went on about S-P-E-W in the common room. She even cornered Neville up to a wall and repetitively shook the box under his nose! "You do realize that your sheets are changed, your fires lit, your classrooms cleaned, and your food cooked by a group of magical creatures who are unpaid and enslaved?"

"Fine, fine!" Neville cried, reaching into his pocket and handing her the two Sickles. Hermione grinned and went over to Fred and George next, who kept telling her the house-elves enjoyed working, and she kept arguing that that was because they were brainwashed and educated. Then Hedwig flew in and delivered Harry a message. Even though he didn't show it to me, I was sure it was about Sirius.

For the rest of the day no one was attentive in their classes. We returned to Gryffindor Tower and dropped off our bags and books. We rushed back downstairs for the entrance hall. "Miss Ambry, why must you be wearing that hideous mass-scare-a _today_?" McGonagall asked her as we filed down the steps of the castle and lined up in the front. Veruca rolled her eyes as everyone laughed at her.

"How do you reckon they're going to come here?" another third year asked.

"I'm not sure," Landon McFadden replied. "They could Apparate. Maybe you're allowed to do it under seventeen where they come from?"

"Maybe a Portkey," suggested John Seyfried.

"Broomsticks!" suggested Colin Creevey.

"No, _no_!" Seamus Finnigan argued. "Not from that far away!"

"Aha!" I heard Dumbledore's voice exclaim from somewhere in the crowd. "Unless I am very much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!"

"Where?" many of us asked, all looking in different directions.

"_There_!" yelled a sixth year, pointing over the forest.

Something much larger than a broomstick- or indeed a hundred broomsticks- was hurtling across the deep blue sky toward the castle, growing larger all the time. The large black shape skimmed over the treetops of the Forbidden Forest and the lights shining from the castle windows. There was a gigantic, powder-blue horse-drawn carriage, the size of a large house, soaring toward us. It was pulled by a dozen winged horses, all palominos, and each the size of an elephant. The first years and the rest of the students in the front of the crowd drew backward as the carriage hurtled ever lower, coming in to land at a tremendous speed- then, with an almighty crash made Neville jump backward onto a Slytherin fifth year's foot. A second later the carriage landed too, bouncing upon its vast wheels, while the golden horses tossed their enormous heads and rolled large, fiery red eyes. The door of the carriage bore a coat of arms (two crossed, golden wands, each emitting three stars) before it opened.

A boy in pale robes jumped out of the carriage, bent down, fumbled with something on the carriage floor, and unfolded a set of golden steps. He sprang back respectfully. Then a woman- the _largest_ woman I had ever seen- came down the steps. Her high-heeled black shoes were the size of a child's sled. The size of the carriage and the horses was immediately explained. We all gasped.

"Look at the size of that woman," said Seamus Finnigan excitedly.

This might have been the other person who was the size of Hagrid, and they may have had a one inch difference in their heights. Of course I was used to Hagrid, so this woman just seemed very large. She also had a pretty, olive-skinned face, large black eyes, and a hooked nose. Her hair was drawn back in a shining knob at the base of her neck. She was wearing satin, and wore a necklace full of opals and opal rings. Everybody clapped for her. She walked over to Dumbledore, who kissed her hand.

"My dear Madame Maxine," he said. "Welcome to Hogwarts."

"Dumbly-dorr," Madame Maxine replied in a deep voice. "I 'ope I find you well?"

"In excellent form, I thank you."

"My pupils." There were a dozen boys and girls in their late teens, emerging from the carriage and standing behind her. They wore light blue silk robes and wrapped scarves and shawls around their heads. They all looked up at Hogwarts apprehensively. "'As Karkaroff arrived yet?"

"He should be here any moment. Would you like to wait here and greet him or would you prefer to step inside and warm up a trifle?"

"Warm up, I think. But ze 'orses-"

"Our Care of Magical Creatures teacher will be delighted to take care of them, the moment he has returned from dealing with a slight situation that has arisen with some of his other- er- charges." The skrewts.

"My steeds require- er- forceful 'andling. Zey are very strong…"

"I assure you that Hagrid will be well up to the job."

"Very well. Will you please inform siz 'Agrid zat ze 'orses drink only single-malt whiskey?" She bowed. Then she and her students marched up the steps to Hogwarts.

"It will be attended to." He bowed too.

"The lake!" exclaimed Lee Jordan, pointing down at it. "Look at the lake!"

There was a disturbance in the center of the lake; great bubbles were forming on the surface, waves were now washing over the muddy banks- and then, out in the very middle of the lake, a whirlpool appeared, as if a giant plug had just been pulled out of the lake's floor. Then a long black pole began to rise slowly out of the heart of the whirlpool and I could see the rigging. A ship rose out of the water, gleaming in the moonlight. It had a skeletal look, as though it had been a resurrected shipwreck. It started gliding toward the bank. There was the splash of an anchor being thrown down in the shallows, and the thud of a plank was being lowered onto the bank.

People started coming out of the ship's portholes. They seemed to be built along the lines of Crabbe and Goyle, but then I realized as they drew nearer that their bulk was really because they were wearing shaggy, matted fur coats. The man leading them up to the castle was wearing sleek and silver coats, like his hair.

"Dumbledore!" he called as he walked up the slope. "How are you, my dear fellow, how are you?"

"Blooming thank you, Professor Karkaroff," Dumbledore replied.

Karkaroff had a unctuous voice. He was tall and thin like Dumbledore, but with short white hair and a goatee (finishing in a small curl). "Dear old Hogwarts," he said, looking up and smiling at the castle. He had very yellow teeth. "How good it is to be here, how good…Viktor, come along, into the warmth…you don't mind, Dumbledore? Viktor has a slight head cold…"

"Amy!" exclaimed Ginny, tugging on my shoulder. "It's Viktor Krum! He was the Bulgarian Seeker at the Quidditch match!"

Then I saw a boy with a hooked nose and very thick black eyebrows. "Yes, it is!" I agreed, since I have heard of the boy and have seen him in pictures before. "Wow, that's so cool! He's actually in Hogwarts!"

"It's not just _cool_," Ginny pointed out. "It's _amazing_."

"Yeah," I said as we walked back toward the Great Hall for the feast.

"Maybe he's going to try for the Cup?" Ginny suggested.

"Yeah," I said absent-mindedly. Then all of a sudden I tripped over someone's robes. I started falling but caught myself.

"Son of a Mudblood, Amy!" cried Malfoy's voice. "Watch where you're going! You've stepped on my robes; now they've been contaminated! What, you reckon I'd want to bother Dad and have him buy me some ones?"

"Your dad looks like a girl, Malfoy!" snapped Ginny.

"Yea!" I agreed between giggles. "Your mum's hair is long but your dad's hair is longer! I'm sure she must be so jealous!"

"Hey- what?" said Malfoy, making a face as Ginny and I fled. When we were far away enough from him though I turned around and saw him looking very angry. He definitely didn't like people insulting his dear father.

When we were inside the Great Hall many people were jumping up and down to have a better look at Viktor Krum. Many girls wanted him to give them his autograph, but they left their quills upstairs with their bags. Ron looked possibly more excited than anyone. "Where's he walking to?" I asked Ginny of Viktor.

"Let me see," Ginny began, trying to look over a Gryffindor seventh year girl's head. "He might be coming here-"

"Really?" I asked. "Is he coming this way?"

"No, but he's looking here," she said. "Wait; wait…I think I'm getting something…oh, _no_!"

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Oh, nothing," said Ginny, even though I could tell from her expression that it was something. "Except he's going to sit at the Slytherin table…near Malfoy…"

"That really stinks," I said. When Viktor sat across the table from Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, the extreme angered expression that had been on Malfoy's face since I made the joke about his parents, faded into a wicked grin. He then bent forward to speak to Viktor.

"Don't worry," said Ginny. "Viktor will realize he's just a smarm. He can tell, can't he?"

"I don't know," I said honestly. Honestly I didn't know much about Viktor, but I hoped he was smart enough to understand that Malfoy was just another person fawning all over him. I was sure that he wouldn't start hanging out with him. Then I would have never wanted to hear about the Bulgarian Quidditch team ever again- no, not when the star Seeker was great friends with Malfoy. I just couldn't take that.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

Author's Note: It has come at last- the Triwizard Tournament. Many students are trying for it, but only three can win…right? Amy is very excited about the whole thing (since she is much too young to try out for the Tournament anyway and doesn't have to worry about it) and she can just sit back, relax, and enjoy the show. She is also excited to have a sports celebrity figure, Viktor Krum, inside her very school. She guesses he might try out for the Cup. Will he? And who will be selected?


	4. An Impartial Judge

Author's Note: Review- Since Amy has always been good at keeping her mouth shut some of her friends have been telling her some of their most secretive secrets, like Fred and George Weasley are trying to get money they deserved from famous sports figure Ludo Bagman, and Harry Potter's scar is hurting whenever he has dreams about Lord Voldemort. The Triwizard Tournament is going to begin and Amy is worried that Viktor Krum is going to befriend Malfoy.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own _Harry Potter _or its characters. They belong to J.K. Rowling.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

4. An Impartial Judge

"Who do you suppose is coming?" Ginny asked me.

"Huh?" I said.

"Look at Filch." So I did. He was up at the staff table, wearing his moldy old tailcoat he always did for honorable occasions. He was adding four chairs- two on either side of Dumbledore's chair. "There are supposed to be _two_ people coming, not _four_," Ginny pointed out. "Who do you think the two others will be?"

I shrugged. As soon as everyone entered the Great Hall and settled down at their House tables, the staff entered, filing up to the top table and taking their seats. Last in line were Professor Dumbledore, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime. The Beauxbatons students clapped when their headmistress appeared, which caused many Hogwarts students to laugh for some reason, but they didn't seem to mind. Then Madame Maxime sat down on Dumbledore's left-hand side. Dumbledore remained standing, which silenced the Hall.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts and- most particularly- guests," said Dumbledore. He was beaming at each and every one of the foreign students. "I have great pleasure in welcoming you all to Hogwarts. I hope and trust that your stay here will be both comfortable and enjoyable. The tournament will be officially opened at the end of the feast. I now invite you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home!"

The plates in front of everyone filled with food. "What's _that_?" I heard Ron ask from across the table, pointing to something very foreign.

"Bouillabaisse," said Hermione.

"Bless you."

"It's _French_," she pointed out. "I had it on holiday summer before last. It's very nice."

"I'll take your word for it," said Ron, helping himself to some black pudding.

Hagrid came into the Hall about twenty minutes after the start of the feast. He went up to the High Table and waved over at the Gryffindor table. "Skrewts doing alright, Hagrid?" called Harry.

"Thrivin'," Hagrid called back happily.

"Oh, _come on_!" said Ginny, looking over at Ron. I looked at him next to see what was happening. He was goggling up at a Beauxbatons girl with a long sheet of silvery-blond hair that almost fell to her waist, large, deep blue eyes, and very white, even teeth. She was standing in front of Ron, and it seemed as if she was asking him for the Bouillabaisse.

"Yeah, have it," said Harry, pushing the dish toward the girl _for_ Ron.

"You 'ave finished wiz it?" she asked Ron.

"Yeah," said Ron breathlessly. "Yeah, it was excellent."

The girl picked up the dish and carried it carefully off to the Ravenclaw table. Ron was still staring at her, and she turned the heads of many boys in the Hall too, who reacted very similarly to how Ron did. Hermione, however, had her arms crossed and her expression looked kind of upset.

"That girl has some veela in her, I reckon," said Ginny. "I mean, _nobody_ looks like _that_." I could tell she was jealous.

"Wow, I _know_," I said, agreeing.

"Ron's fallen for her, I see."

"No, I'm not sure about that," I pointed out. "You see, he's goggling at her the same sort of way he goggled at me earlier in the year, and I don't think he likes _me_, so that's what I think."

"He _goggled_ at you?" Ginny asked, trying to keep a straight face.

"Yeah," I said frowning. "What's so funny about that?"

"Oh, nothing," Ginny replied. She turned away so I wouldn't see her bursting into laughter.

"Hey, look!" said Colin Creevey. "Two people are coming in through the entrance hall! Who are they?"

"No way!" said Landon McFadden. "It can't be-"

"It's Ludo Bagman!" exclaimed John Seyfried. I looked over at the doors and saw a powerfully built wizard with a squashed nose, round blue eyes, and short blond hair. This apparently was Ludo Bagman, so I looked over at Fred and George, who looked anxious and sat with their butts at the edges of their seats.

"And it's Barty Crouch, Percy's boss!" Ginny said as an elderly man with straight gray hair and a narrow toothbrush mustache, wearing proper clothes came in next. He looked possibly the opposite of Ludo. Ludo sat next to Karkaroff and Mr. Crouch sat next to Madame Maxime.

"They organized the Triwizard Tournament," Hermione whisper-shouted to Ginny and me across the table. "That's why they're here; they wanted to see it start."

After dessert and after the last of the golden plates had been wiped clean, Dumbledore announced with a pleasant smile, "The moment has come. The Triwizard Tournament is about to start. I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the casket, just to clarify the procedure that we will be following this year. But first, let me introduce, for those who do not know them, Mr. Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation" - polite applause - "and Mr. Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports." There was a much louder round of applause for Bagman, the famous Beater, but Crouch didn't look bothered. In fact he had no expression.

"Mr. Bagman and Mr. Crouch have worked tirelessly over the last few months on the arrangements for the Triwizard Tournament," Dumbledore continued, "and they will be joining myself, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime on the panel that will judge the champion's efforts." The students seemed to become more attentive when he said 'champions'. "The casket, then, if you please, Mr. Filch," said Dumbledore. Filch, who had been lurking quietly in a far corner of the Hall, now walked up to Dumbledore carrying a great wooden chest encrusted with jewels. It looked very old. "The instructions for the tasks the champions will face this year have already been examined by Mr. Crouch and Mr. Bagman," said Dumbledore as Filch placed the chest carefully on the table before him, "and they have made the necessary arrangements for each challenge. There will be three tasks, spaced throughout the school year, and they will test the champions in many different ways…their magical prowess- their daring - their powers of deduction- and, of course, their ability to cope with danger." Nobody seemed to be breathing when he said that last word. We were all silent, serious.

"As you know," continued Dumbledore, "three champions compete in the tournament. One from each of the participating schools. They will be marked on how well they perform each one of the tasks and the champion with the highest total after task three will win the Triwizard Cup. The champions will be chosen by an impartial selector: The Goblet of Fire." He took out his wand and tapped three times upon the top of the casket. The lid creaked slowly open. He reached inside it and pulled out a large, roughly hewn wooden cup. It would have been very dull-looking, but the dancing blue-white flames saved it. He closed the casket and placed the goblet carefully on top of it, so everyone could see it.

"Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and school clearly upon a slip of parchment and drop it into the goblet," said Dumbledore. "Aspiring champions have twenty-four hours in which to put their names forward. Tomorrow night, Halloween, the goblet will return the names of the three it has judged most worthy to represent their schools. The goblet will be placed in the entrance hall tonight, where it will be freely accessible to all those wishing to compete. To ensure that no underage student yields to temptation, I will be drawing an Age Line around the Goblet of Fire-" (Fred and George yelled "Rubbish!") "-once it has been placed in the entrance hall. Nobody under the age of seventeen will be able to cross this line.

"Finally, I wish to impress upon any of you wishing to compete that this tournament is not to be entered into lightly. Once a champion has been selected by the Goblet of Fire, he or she is obliged to see the tournament through to the end. The placing of your name in the goblet constitutes a binding, magical contract. There can be no change of heart once you have become a champion. Please be very sure, therefore, that you are wholeheartedly prepared to play before you drop your name into the goblet. Now I think it is time for bed. Good night to you all."

"An Age Line!" Fred said, as he started to the entrance hall. "Well, that should be fooled by an Aging Potion, shouldn't it? And once your name's in that goblet, you're laughing- it can't tell whether you're seventeen or not!"

"But I don't think anyone under seventeen will stand a chance," said Hermione, "we just haven't learned enough…"

"Speak for yourself," said George. "You'll try and get in, won't you, Harry?" Harry didn't answer though. He just listened to Ron ask where Viktor Krum was.

Next morning, which was Saturday morning, everyone woke up especially early to see who would put their names in the Goblet of Fire. It had been placed in the center of the hall on the stool that normally had the Sorting Hat. A thin golden line had been traced on the floor, forming a circle ten feet around it in every direction. After all of the Durmstrang competitors put their names in the Goblet they left, stony-faced and serious. Then Harry, Ron, Hermione and Carly arrived.

"Anyone put their name in yet?" Ron asked me eagerly.

"All the Durmstrang lot," I replied. "But I haven't seen anyone from Hogwarts yet."

"Bet some of them put it in last night after we'd all gone to bed," Harry said to Ron and me. "I would've if it had been me…wouldn't have wanted everyone watching. What if the goblet just gobbed you right back out again?" All of a sudden I heard laughing. It was Fred, George, and Lee Jordan.

"Done it," Fred whispered to us triumphantly. "Just taken it."

"What?" said Ron.

"The Aging Potions, dung brains," said Fred.

"One drop each," said George, rubbing his hands together excitedly. "We only need to be a few months older."

"We're going to split the thousand Galleons between the three of us if one of us wins," said Lee, grinning broadly

"I'm not sure this is going to work, you know," said Hermione logically. "I'm sure Dumbledore will have thought of this."

"Ready?" said Fred, ignoring her. "C'mon, then- I'll go first-" We watched, fascinated, as Fred pulled a slip of parchment out of his pocket bearing the words _Fred Weasley- Hogwarts_. He walked right up to the edge of the line and stood there, quivering. Then with the eyes of every person in the entrance hall upon him, he took a large breath and stepped over the line. At first I thought it'd worked; George certainly thought so, because he let out a yell of triumph and leapt after him. Next moment though, there was a loud sizzling sound, and both of them were hurled out of the golden circle as though they had been thrown by an invisible shot-putter. They landed harshly on their butts ten feet away on the cold stone floor, and to add insult to injury, there was a loud popping noise and both of them sprouted identical long white beards. We all laughed, and so did they.

"I did warn you," said a deep, amused voice. We turned to see Dumbledore coming out of the Great Hall. His eyes were twinkling. "I suggest you both go up to Madam Pomfrey. She is already tending to Miss Fawcett, of Ravenclaw, and Mr. Summers, of Hufflepuff, both of whom decided to age themselves up a little too. Though I must say, neither of their beards is anything like as fine as yours." Fred and George started off, along with Lee.

"Professor Dumbledore," I said.

"Yes, Miss Sellick?" he replied.

"I'm a bit confused," I said. "Why exactly are we _having _the Triwizard Cup this year? After all these years- isn't it a bit random?"

Dumbledore smiled and shrugged. "I'm afraid can't tell you that, Amy," he replied. Then he followed the three boys to the Hospital Wing.

The decorations in the Great Hall had changed. It was Halloween, so there was a cloud of live bats flattering around the enchanted ceiling, while hundreds of carved pumpkins leered from every corner.

"Hey, did you hear?" Dean Thomas asked Ginny and me. "Rumor has it Warrington got up early and put his name in. You know, that big bloke from Slytherin who looks like a sloth."

"We can't have a Slytherin champion!" Ginny cried.

"And all the Hufflepuffs are mentioning Diggory," added Seamus, looking annoyed. "I wouldn't have expected _him_ to go and want to risk his good looks."

A tall black girl named Angelina Johnson who I recognized from the Quidditch team ran over to us and sat down. "Well, I've done it!" she said. "Just put my name in!"

"You're kidding!" said Ron, looking impressed.

"Are you seventeen, then?" asked Harry.

"Course she is, can't see a beard, can you?" said Ron rudely.

"I had my birthday last week," Angelina said.

"Well, I'm glad someone from Gryffindor's entering," said Hermione. "I really hope you get it, Angelina!"

"Thanks, Hermione," said Angelina smiling at her.

"Me too," I agreed.

"Thanks," said Angelina, smiling at me too.

"Yeah, better you than Pretty-Boy Diggory," said Seamus, causing several Hufflepuffs passing our table to scowl at him.

Later at dinner, when we entered the candlelit Great Hall again, the Goblet of Fire had been moved and was standing in front of Dumbledore's empty chair at the teacher's table. Fred and George- clean-shaven again- seemed to have taken their disappointment pretty well. "Hope it's Angelina," said Fred.

The Halloween feast seemed to take much longer than usual since we were so eager to learn who the champions were. At long last though the golden plates became spotless and cleaned. Dumbledore got to his feet. On either side of him, Professor Karkaroff and Madame Maxime looked as tense and expectant as anyone. Ludo Bagman looked excited and Mr. Crouch looked unexcited.

"Hey, it's Bagman; let's say hi!" exclaimed Ginny. So she and I waved at Ludo Bagman. He waved back and beamed at us.

"Don't," said Fred, poking me in the shoulder with his finger. So I stopped.

"Well, the goblet is almost ready to make its decision," said Dumbledore. "I estimate that it requires one more minute. Now, when the champion's names are called, I would ask them please to come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber"- he indicated the door behind the staff table- "where they will be receiving their first instructions." He took out his wand and waved it so all the candles except those inside the carved pumpkins were extinguished. Now it was semi-dark. The Goblet of Fire shone brighter than anything else in the whole Hall, the sparkling bright, bluey-whiteness of the flames almost painful on the eyes, but very pretty. Everyone watched, waiting.

"Any second," Lee Jordan whispered.

And all of a sudden the flames turned red. Sparks began to rise from it. Next moment, a tongue of flame shot into the air, a charred piece of parchment fluttered out of it- the whole room gasped. Dumbledore caught it and held it at arm's length, so he could read it under the light of the flames, which had turned back to blue-white. "The champion for Durmstrang," he read in his strong, clear voice, "will be Viktor Krum."

"No surprises there!" yelled Ron as the storm of applause and cheering swept the Hall. Viktor rose from the Slytherin table and slouched up toward Dumbledore. He turned right, walked along the staff table and disappeared through the door into the next chamber.

"Bravo, Viktor!" Karkaroff boomed, loud enough that everyone could hear him, even over all the applause. "Knew you had it in you!"

"Of _course_ he _did_," Ginny said to me. "He's _Viktor Krum_." I nodded politely.

When the applause died down everyone's attention was focused back on the goblet, which seconds later, turned red once more. A second piece of parchment shot out of it. "The champion for Beauxbatons," said Dumbledore, "is Fleur Delacour!"

"It's her, Ron!" Harry shouted as the girl who resembled a veela with silvery blonde hair glided between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables.

"Puke," Ginny said under her breath, seeming upset with Harry's very enthusiastic reaction.

"Maybe we should call her _Phlegm_," I suggested.

The room was dark but I could tell Ginny's face lit up. "You're right!" she said. "That's a perfect name for her!"

"Oh look, they're all disappointed," said Hermione, nodding over at the remainder of the Beauxbatons party. That was a bit of an understatement though, because two of the girls who hadn't been selected had dissolved into tears and were sobbing with their heads on their arms.

When Fleur vanished into the side chamber the silence fell again The silence was so stiff with excitement you could almost taste it. The Hogwarts champion would be called next. The Goblet of Fire turned red again and the tongue of flame shot high into the air, and from its tip Dumbledore pulled out the third piece of parchment. "The Hogwarts champion," he began, "is Cedric Diggory!" There was very loud applause from the Hufflepuff table. Cedric made his way past, grinning, and headed off toward the chamber behind the teacher's table. The applause lasted so long that it was some time before Dumbledore could continue.

"Excellent!" he called happily, finally. "Well, we now have our three champions. I am sure I can count upon all of you, including the remaining students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, to give your champions every ounce of support you can muster. By cheering your champion on, you will contribute in a very real-" But Dumbledore suddenly stopped speaking, and it was obvious what had distracted him: the fire in the goblet had turned red again. A long flame shot suddenly into the air, and burnt upon it was another piece of parchment. Dumbledore automatically seized it. He stared at the name on it. After a long silence, he cleared his throat and read, "_Harry Potter_."

All of a sudden everyone's heads turned to him. No one clapped. There was complete silence as he stood there, stunned. Professor McGonagall went up to Professor Dumbledore to whisper something to him.

"I didn't put my name in," said Harry to Ron, Hermione, and Carly. "You know I didn't." They just stared back at him blankly. I couldn't blame them. Earlier Harry mentioned he'd rather put his name in last night after everyone all went to sleep so no one would be watching. Was it just coincidence though?

"Harry Potter!" Dumbledore called again. "Harry! Up here, if you please!" Hermione gave Harry a slight push and he got to his feet and stumbled slightly. He walked through the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables. When Harry finally got up to the High Table Dumbledore said quietly, "Well…through the door, Harry." He wasn't smiling like he usually did. Harry disappeared through the door that led to the next chamber.

"I can't believe it," said Ginny. "I can't believe he did this."

"Me neither," I said truthfully. How could he have been so stupid?

"I'll tell you why he's done it," said Ron, leaning over to speak to us. I could tell there was a small trace of anger in his voice. "He's doing it so he can win the thousand Galleons prize money! He's doing it so he can keep his famous reputation! He's trying to steal eternal glory from everyone else, though he already has it!"

"No he isn't, Ron!" cried Hermione. "He didn't put his name in, remember?"

"Yeah!" said Carly. "He even told us he didn't! You believe Harry, don't you, Ron?"

"Are you sure he's not lying to us?" Ron challenged.

"Well…" said Hermione, looking a bit uneasy. She looked at Carly for some support, who just shrugged, so Hermione continued, "…it's Harry, isn't it? I believe what Harry has to say no matter what. He's our friend-"

"Not a good enough reason," said Ron. He was trying to hide it, but I could tell he was extremely depressed about this.

When we went up to the Portrait Hole the Fat Lady was joined by a friend- a wizened witch. "Violet's told me everything," said the Fat Lady, looking very smug. "Professor Dumbledore's letting Potter enter!"

"Balderdash," said Ron quietly.

"It most certainly isn't!" said Violet indignantly.

"Vi, it's the password," said the Fat Lady, and the portrait swung upon to let us into the common room.

"It's amazing!" exclaimed Fred, as he and George ran up to Ron, Hermione, Carly, Neville, Ginny, and me. "Harry should have told us he'd entered!"

"I wonder how he'd managed to do it without getting a beard!" added George excitedly.

"Me too," Neville agreed, looking excited but at the same time looking a little bit afraid.

"Come on," Ginny said to me. She took my arm and we started toward the staircase that led to the girls' dormitories. When we were in our dormitory we noticed that Veruca, Madeleine, and Florence were already up there. They were discussing the champions for the Triwizard Tournament.

"Cedric is just so unbelievingly handsome," said Madeleine in a sighing voice. She was painting her nails with sparkling red and gold polish that flashed at different times just as Christmas lights did.

"He _is_," Florence agreed.

"I prefer _Viktor Krum _if you ask _me_," Veruca disagreed. "He's stronger, older, and more mysterious. Did you see that Fleur girl? I'm a bit afraid I won't be able to stand _her_."

"Wow," Ginny whispered to me. "If I didn't hear that last bit, I would have expected Veruca to _love Phlegm_." I giggled.

"What about Potter?" said Madeleine. "He's cute."

"Yeah," Florence agreed. "_Romilda_ thinks so." I felt a whiff of hate when she mentioned Romilda's name. Romilda was a second year- a grade younger than me- who probably attracted the attention of most any boy you could name. But maybe since Fleur was here now…

"I think Potter's just in as a joke," said Veruca. "I think the Goblet of Fire really didn't choose him. I bet it's all a scandal. You know he's just a fame seeker, don't you?"

"He _is_ a _Seeker_," said Florence with a laugh.

"But he isn't a _fame_ seeker," Ginny said quickly. The three girls all looked up at her, as if they'd just noticed she was in the room. "I know Harry, and I know he'd much rather You-Know-Who never killed his parents in the first place. I know for a fact he'd much rather be ordinary."

"Well no one wants someone to kill their parents," said Madeleine. "But it seems highly possible he could want the fame, so he could make up for it…"

"That doesn't even make sense though," Ginny argued. "Harry is very humble and sweet. Maybe someone like Malfoy could want the fame out of this-"

"Why does that Malfoy kid bother you two so much?" Veruca asked, looking up at Ginny and me. "Sure, he's a pest, and he can say some mean things, but why do you let it get to you so much?"

"Um…" I said. I knew why he bothered Ginny. His dad and her dad were always competing and the Malfoys looked down on the Weasleys because they were so poor. I wasn't sure why Draco bothered me so much though. I didn't want to believe I had feelings for him. I thought those had already gone-

"We _don't_," Ginny lied. Veruca raised an eyebrow suspiciously.

"Alright, let's get some sleep," said Florence.

"Not yet!" cried Madeleine. "I'm waiting for my nails to dry!"

The next morning at breakfast Harry and Hermione left to take a walk together. I saw Ron's expression. He looked utterly angry. "What's wrong, Ron?" Ginny asked. "What's gotten to you this time?"

"Shut up, sis," he replied, not even looking up at her.

"Well, he's sort of jealous of Harry," Carly replied, putting her hand on Ron's shoulder. "And _especially_ now that Harry's gone off to walk with Hermione-"

"Shut up, Carly!" Ron snapped quickly, as if he didn't want her to finish the rest of the sentence.

"And _especially_ now that Harry's gone off to walk with Hermione," Carly repeated, stiffly. She didn't know what to say after that.  
"I think it's cool that Harry's in the competition," Neville said abruptly.

"No, Neville!" said Veruca, who was sitting five people away from me. She leaned across the table to speak to him. "He's _not_ in the competition! It's just a joke! It's just a scandal!"

"A _scandal_?" George Weasley repeated, alarmed.

"It isn't a _scandal_!" Fred Weasley pointed out. "It's just a stroke of pure genius, that Potter's got! He somehow managed to cross that Age Line, without anyone's notice-"

"Shut up, Weasley," said Veruca, rolling her eyes. "I know I'm right."

"Oh, yeah?" said Fred. "What makes you so sure?"

"Let's just say I'm a _tad _smarter than _you_ are," she said, smiling smugly.

"Ooh," Seamus whispered to Fred. "You've been told, my friend." He pat him on the back.

"Let's just see how very wrong she is," Fred whispered back.

Throughout the day the Hufflepuffs were very cold toward the Gryffindors, which was unexpected since we were usually on good terms. In a way it was completely expected though. The Hufflepuffs, who rarely received any glory, were upset since they were worried Harry was going to beat Cedric in the Tournament. The Gryffindors often received glory. In my opinion, this still wasn't a reason to argue. At least if any of them won a Hogwarts champion would win. This coldness lasted for the next few days.

As powerful as Harry was, he didn't look like the champion as much as Cedric or Viktor did. When Cedric was tall and handsome, and Viktor was big and mysterious, Harry was a skinny boy with untidy black hair and glasses. It was hard to say who was getting more admiration these days: Cedric or Viktor.

"Amy," Ginny said one day at lunch. "We need some autographs."

"What?" I asked in my most practical voice, even though on the inside my stomach was fluttering with excitement. "What, do you reckon we just go up to the champions and ask for their autographs? Like we can just do that without making complete fools out of ourselves?"

"If we don't do it now and we wait too long," Ginny began, "when it gets closer to when the Tournament starts, we won't be able to approach them as easily. They will surely be surrounded by much more people than they're surrounded by at the moment."

I took her word for it. We went over to the Hufflepuff table. "Ah, Cedric?" I said. He turned around and looked up at me. "Could we um…have your autograph?"

"Sure," said Cedric, flashing us a dazzling smile. "What do I sign?"

"Oh, how foolish of me," I said laughing awkwardly. "I guess…this roll of parchment. I'm sorry, I can't think of anything else."

"I have my own roll of parchment!" Ginny exclaimed, taking one from out of her bag.

"Alright," said Cedric. He got to his feet, raised his quill, and started writing his name (in perfect cursive) onto the parchment. "_To the beautiful Amy Sellick_," he read aloud. I blushed when he said that. "_From Cedric Diggory_. How's that?"

"It's great!" I replied, snatching the parchment from him a bit quickly. My heart was beating like mad. "Thanks!"

"You're welcome," he replied. Then he took Ginny's piece of parchment. "_To the radiant Ginny Weasley. From Cedric Diggory_."

"Thank you!" Ginny cried. She took her piece of parchment.

"You're welcome to you too," he replied.

"Goodbye!" said Ginny, pulling me back to the Gryffindor table.

"But I wanted to stay longer!" I said quietly.

"Listen!" Ginny snapped. "You know that was no ordinary quill, it wasn't!"

"Huh?" I said, confused.

"That was the Enclosed Message Quill!" she replied. "It's similar to an envelope because if you say the magic word, it replaces itself with another message- a hidden message- that the author had been thinking of as they were writing the message. Did you see any kind of difference between that quill and any ordinary quill?" I shook my head. "That's right," said Ginny, "because it's enchanted to look like any other ordinary quill."

"So what's the magic word?" I was dying to know.

"The magic _words_," Ginny corrected herself from earlier on. "_Open sesame_." All of a sudden the perfect cursive address on her paper faded to new words. It kind of reminded me of when I had written to Tom Riddle in his diary two years before when I wrote a message and it disappeared, and it would turn into his message. But this was different. "Let me read it out loud," Ginny said. "_I wish you a very excellent third year at Hogwarts…as long as you promise to wish me good luck in the Tournament. Just kidding (wink, wink). Goodbye now._"

"That's so cool!" I exclaimed. "So how do you get it to show the other message again?"

"_Close_,"said Ginny. The message became its original message again. "What does yours say?"

"_Open sesame_," I said. The message changed. I read aloud, "_You are very quiet, but terribly sweet. I wish I could have gotten to know you better. Maybe after the Triwizard Tournament's over and the excitement has died down and summer has arrived, we can make arrangements. Have a wonderful third year at Hogwarts_."

"He's so nice," said Ginny.

"Yes, I agree," I said, feeling incredibly happy. I felt as if a warm light had come over me and took me over. Cedric wanted to _know me better_! I couldn't believe what I had just written. I didn't want to say "_Close_" but I did anyway. I didn't want to seem completely obsessed, even though I might have been.

"Now let's get one from Viktor," said Ginny, "and _Phlegm_."

"What about Harry?" I asked.

Ginny blushed. "But we know him, don't we?" she said.

"Right," I said. We walked over to Viktor, who was sitting at the Slytherin table. I tried to ignore Malfoy (who was sitting across from him), but I couldn't. The whole time I kept looking back and forth at the two boys. Malfoy, who was smirking at first, was frowning spitefully up at Ginny and me now. Aside from his expression though, I was greatly distracted by the badge he was wearing that shone brightly and read, **SUPPORT CEDRIC DIGGORY- THE REAL HOGWARTS CHAMPION!**

"Could we have your autograph?" Ginny asked Viktor.

"Of course," Viktor replied, giving us a crooked smile. We supposed this was the best smile he could give anyone, since he rarely smiled. He took our quills from us (so this definitely wasn't going to be an Enclosed Message) and started writing on our new sheets of parchment. Unlike Cedric, who wrote us messages, he just signed his name. "Haff a good day, you two," he said, politely but emotionlessly.

"You're welcome!" I replied, as Ginny marched off. I followed her a few seconds later, turning around a couple of times to stare back at Malfoy. He was still staring at me too, but he looked immensely angry. What was wrong with him?

"Hey!" I heard Ginny say to someone. I looked at who she was looking at: it was Fleur. Fleur was chatting with three other Beauxbatons girls who were each wearing matching light blue robes. Fleur turned around when Ginny said this. She stared at us as if we were commoners trying to ask a favor from a beautiful princess, which in a way she was and wasn't. "Could we have your autograph?"

"Why, of course!" Fleur replied, smiling now. She raised a pink quill in the air and started signing her name (in fine cursive) on our new sheets of parchment. "Fleur for ze Triweezard champion, girls!" she exclaimed, tossing her long sheet of silvery blond hair for effect.

"You wish," Ginny said quietly as we started off back for the Gryffindor table. Then Colin Creevey ran up to me.

"Amy!" he cried. "Amy, it's urgent! You've got to take your things with you!"

"What is this about?" I was curious to know.

"You're supposed to go down with the champions-" Colin began as Ginny shot me an envious look "-while they're taking their photographs. Your dad is there, and so are many other wizards from the _Daily Prophet_. They say they want you as an assistant or something."

"Take me with you," Ginny said hopefully as I tossed my bags over my shoulder and started off.

"Goodbye!" I yelled back at her. I followed Colin to wherever he had been taking me.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

Author's Note: The four champions have been selected, and Amy has been called to be an assistant for a _Daily Prophet_ situation or something. So Amy is excited about Cedric's message he had written for her. He told her that he would try to make arrangements with her once summer arrived. She's not sure who to route for in the Triwizard Tournament- Cedric or Harry. It doesn't even matter because they're both from Hogwarts, but when everyone's choosing sides, it's hard to remain neutral.


	5. Whose Side Are You On

Author's Note: Review- The competitors have placed their names in the Goblet of Fire. The three champions are Viktor Krum of Durmstrang, Fleur Delacour of Beauxbatons, and Cedric Diggory of Hufflepuff House. But wait, there's another…_Harry Potter_? Amy has biased feelings towards both Cedric and Harry and is having trouble choosing. She might take part in the Tournament since she has been called to be an assistant to the _Daily Prophet_.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own _Harry Potter _or its characters. They belong to J.K. Rowling.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

5. Whose Side Are You On?

"This is it!" Colin exclaimed happily as we reached the right room. He knocked on the door. I felt a jolt of excitement in the pit of my stomach when I saw who answered. It was my dad- here at Hogwarts! I couldn't believe it!

"Hello, Amy," he said, giving me a weak smile. I could tell he was happy to see me, but he seemed a bit stressed out. "How are you? Excited about the Triwizard Tournament?"

"Yes, Dad!" I replied, giving him a hug. He hugged me back.

"Happy early birthday, darling," he said.

"Oh, right," I said. I just remembered my fourteenth birthday was the next day. "But first, what am I here for?"

Dad sighed heavily. "I really didn't want to disturb you and interrupt your next couple classes-" he began.

"It's alright," I assured him. "I have Care of Magical Creatures next and I really don't feel like walking the Blast-Ended Skrewts."

He chuckled. "Yes, but your work is your responsibility, darling."

"So why did you call me here in the first place, then?"

"I was just going to tell you that," he explained. "_I_ didn't call you down here. Rita Skeeter did."

I made a face. "Why would you _not_ want me to come down here and she _would_?"

"Don't take it that way," Dad said (just as Colin left the room). "Of _cours_e I'd want to see you, but I think Rita's just asking you to come down here so she can look for an excuse to bash the supervisor for the _Daily Prophet _(which as you know is _me_). She's told me she doesn't trust me to do my job and interview the champions so she's called you down here to serve as her assistant and-"

"Hello, Miss Amy Sellick," said a woman's voice. I looked up and saw a woman in magenta robes with short, curly yellow hair and jeweled spectacles. She was wearing a crocodile-skin handbag. Her two-inch length nails were painted crimson. "I see that you and your father here have talked, seen each other…"

"I still think you're up to something, Rita," said Dad, his expression serious.

"Of course I'm not!" Rita argued, appalled. "What makes you think that?"

"Because Professor Dumbledore has said again and again he doesn't want you to step foot in this castle!"

"Lovely," said Rita. All of a sudden a green quill started to scribble on a piece of parchment, _**Filbert Sellick, that pushover of a **_**Daily Prophet **_**executive, doesn't trust his highest reporters to take orders.**_

"Really, Rita?" said Dad, raising an eyebrow. I had never seen him so tough before. "That _pushover _of a _Daily Prophet_ executive? Just because I listen to what Professor Dumbledore has to say?" Rita nodded smugly. "Well, in that case, I just might have to fire you," Dad threatened.

"_Fire me_?" Rita repeated skeptically. "But Filbert, I am the highest reporter here! You can't fire me! I'm the only reason people still read your pathetic excuse for a newspaper!"

"I hate to interrupt," I said, even though I really didn't, "but what am I supposed to do down here _exactly_?"

"You're supposed to interview the champions before the shoot starts, Amy," Rita replied. "But you won't get to interview them all, I'm afraid- maybe just one. I'll interview one and you another. Whichever ones are the most _interesting_."

"What, so you can bash them _too_?" Dad wanted to know. She didn't answer.

"Ah, there she is!" exclaimed the man who I recognized to be Ludo Bagman. He was grinning broadly down at me. Then he turned to Rita. "Er, what is she doing here again, Rita?"

"You'll see," said Rita, grinning at me. But I wasn't sure if it was really a happy grin- her eyebrows were furrowed just as though she was frowning.

"Alright," said Ludo. He looked down at me again. "So are you excited, Miss Sellick?"

"Yes," I replied. I supposed he knew my name since my dad was here. "Though I'm not exactly sure-"

The door opened without a knock. Viktor Krum came in. He looked startled to see me. He bowed his head at Ludo, then at Dad, then at Rita, and then at me. He walked over to a corner in the room and didn't talk to anybody. For the next few minutes the other champions came in the room. The next one was Fleur Delacour, who tossed her head so that her long silvery hair caught the light (a paunchy photographer for the _Daily Prophet_ was eyeing her curiously- kind of creepy). She went over to another corner of the room and ignored all of us. How sweet.

The next champion to come in was Cedric Diggory. He walked over to us almost straightaway. "Hello, Mr. Sellick," he said, giving my dad a friendly pat on the back.

"Cedric!" exclaimed Dad, giving him a high five. "I think it is amazing that you're the champion for Hogwarts! You-"

"_One_ of the champions for Hogwarts," Cedric corrected him with a smile.

"Yes, of course!" Dad chuckled amiably. Cedric nodded at Ludo, and didn't react at all to Rita. He then walked up to me. I nervously ran my fingers through my hair as he came closer.

"Hello, Amy," he said, smiling down at me. "You're here to interview us, right?"

"Yes," I said with a quick, awkward, and embarrassing nod.

"Good," he said. Then he leaned in forward and placed his hand on my shoulder, and whispered in my ear, "And if you get to choose, please pick _me_. Save me from that Skeeter woman, would you?"

"I most definitely would!" I assured him loudly.

"Oh," said Cedric. "Your hair is in your eyes. Must be terribly uncomfortable…oh, here! I'll-" I didn't hear the rest of his sentence as he lifted his hand, took the strand of my hair that was in my eyes, and pulled it behind my ear. His fingers even brushed against my face. I became extremely hot and my heart was beating fast. "There," he said. "Much better."

"Oh, sorry, thanks!" I said. Merlin's beard, I was obnoxious.

"You're welcome," he said, smiling one last time before he walked over to talk to Fleur. He turned around one more time - again - and said, "Oh, and happy early birthday!"

"Thank you so much!" I replied. I loved it when he talked to me, but I'd also wished he'd stop because soon he would notice how truly awkward I was.

Finally, Harry Potter, the last champion, entered through the door. "Hello, Harry!" I exclaimed, running up to him.

"Hello, Amy," he replied, resting his head on my shoulder and patting me on the back. "What're you doing here?"

"I was called down to interview-" I began, just before Ludo interrupted.

"Ah, here he is!" Ludo exclaimed. "Champion number four! In you come, Harry, in you come…nothing to worry about, it's just the wand weighing ceremony, the rest of the judges will be here in a moment-"

"Wand weighing?" Harry and I said at once.

"We do it every Triwizard Tournament," Dad replied.

"We have to check that your wands are fully functional, no problems, you know, as they're your most important tools in the tasks ahead," Ludo explained. "The expert's upstairs now with Dumbledore. And then there's going to be a little photo shoot. This is Rita Skeet," he added, pointing to Rita. "She's doing a small piece on the tournament for the _Daily Prophet_…"

"Maybe not _that_ small, Ludo," Rita corrected. "I wonder if I could have a little word with Harry before we start? The youngest champion, you know…to add a bit of color?"

"Certainly!" cried Ludo. "That is- if Harry has no objection?"

Before Harry said anything Rita said, "Lovely" and grabbed his upper arm. She began steering him out of the room and opened a nearby door just after shouting at me, "Pick a champion, any champion, Amy! Whichever one appears the most interesting to you!"

It wasn't a very hard decision to make. Since Rita had already chosen Harry and Cedric need not worry about her, I wasn't going to pick Cedric. It was awkward to after all the things he said to me recently, and I didn't want to change his opinion. I didn't want to pick Fleur either, because she seemed a bit judgmental, and I felt uncomfortable with those types of people. So I chose Viktor, because he was very quiet himself, and he would definitely appear most interesting to others since he was the Bulgarian Seeker at the World Cup.

"So how do you feel about this whole tournament?" I asked him, ready to take notes on a piece of parchment with my quill.

"Vell," he began, "I don't feel much, no. I feel relaxed. Though I don't know the tasks yet I can prepare myself vell. I'm ready to face obstacles…" This was pretty much how the rest of the interview went.

When it was over and I felt I had asked enough questions, I said, "Thank you very much, Viktor."

"Your velcome, Amy," he said, bowing his head. I got up and walked towards my dad again.

"Amy," he said. "Your job is done. Time to return to your classes."

"Oh, _come on_!" I groaned. Right now it was the middle of Potions. After walking down to the dungeons to go in the Potions classroom, I huffed and puffed. It was an extremely long walk and my bags were very heavy. When I threw the doors open Snape's temple pulsed angrily. I could see he was wearing a very concerned expression on his face, even under all his long, greasy black hair.

"You're late, Miss Sellick," he said, his beady black eyes glaring at me.

"Yeah, I'm late," I agreed. I didn't even bother explaining why I was. I just sat down in my seat defiantly. There were snickers from the Slytherin students.

"Good," said Snape. "Detention tomorrow, Miss Sellick. Happy birthday."

So the next day during breakfast, Ginny said, "I'm so sorry you're going to be spending your birthday in detention with Professor Snape, Amy."

"You may think that, Ginny, but just saying it out loud doesn't make the situation any better," I pointed out. Then my owl, Silvermist, came swooping in just above everyone's heads. He opened his little beak and dropped what seemed to be about a dozen letters onto the table.

"Read them," said Ginny.

So I picked one up and read aloud: "_Dear Amy, I heard from a friend that it is your birthday today. Happy birthday. I can't write much since I have some glitches but I just wanted to remind you that I remember. Sir_-" I caught myself just before I finished the name _Sirius_. I didn't want anyone to become suspicious. Then I read the next letter.

"_Dear Amy, I'm so sorry I didn't get to speak to you long enough yesterday. Your mother and I wish you the best fourteenth birthday a girl could have. We're so sad we can never celebrate your birthdays with you anymore, but I hope you think of us as you're celebrating with all your friends-_" ("With Snape at detention, more like," Ginny said with a snort) "-_because we're thinking of you today. With lots of love, Dad and Mum_."

The next letter was from Ginny herself, then Harry and Ron (who were also spending time with Snape in detention later but at a different time than mine), Hermione and Carly, and Neville and others. I was expecting something from Madeleine, but she was always too busy focusing on her new 'boyfriend' now. Her boyfriend was John Seyfried by the way. They had just started dating, so now they were always walking hand in hand and sitting with each other in the Great Hall.

Madeleine Meander looked different now; she got rid of the glasses she normally wore in the past, so now she had contact lenses. She did more things with her boring black hair and smiled more often. Under her glasses now I could tell she had a pleasant, young, apple-cheeked face. Her boyfriend, John, was baby-faced with sloppy dirty-blond hair. They looked kind of cute together, but I honestly didn't care. I didn't care for John at all. He was very silent around me.

Later that day when it was time for detention Snape was sitting at his desk, writing something down on a piece of parchment. I opened the doors and walked in, letting them close behind me as I stepped inside. "Professor Snape?" I said reluctantly. "My detention…?" If he wasn't going to answer I was just going to turn around and walk out the doors again-

"Ah, yes, Miss Sellick," he replied, his beady eyes still focused on his oh-so-thrilling piece of parchment. "You can start by cleaning the insides of my potions cabinets _with your hands_."

"How am I supposed to do _that_?" I wanted to know, my tone a bit defiant.

"Excuse me?" he said, looking up at me finally. He looked malicious.

"I asked a question," I replied.

"Yes, I heard," he pointed out. "But I didn't appreciate the way you asked it."

"Look, I'm sorry-"

"It's about time I teach irresponsible, disrespectful children like you a lesson," said Snape, getting to his feet. "I gave you your chances, Miss Sellick. These three past years I've expected you to be like your father, to have morals and principles-"

"No, Severus," I argued. He looked shocked when I said his name. But I felt brave right now. I was upset I had to clean the insides of dirty cabinets with my hands. "You never cared whether my father had morals and principles or not. My father was a Slytherin. _That's _why you think he's so much better than me."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," said Snape coldly. "And to answer your uncalled-for question you'd asked earlier by saying cleaning with your hands means literally wiping the dust away with your hands. Can I make myself any clearer?"

"No, sir," I said, disgusted. Why did I have to do _that_?

"Good," said Snape. "Now I suggest you clean up your act and do as I say before your whole entire month is booked with detentions with me."

"Happy birthday, Amy," I said to myself as I stuck my hand in the first cabinet. It felt all gooey and dusty. I wanted to throw up. If only I had been allowed to perform the Cruciatus Curse, oh, Snape would have been the victim…

As the first task of the Triwizard Tournament was drawing nearer Rita Skeeter was going mad about the whole situation. She released an article on what Harry had 'supposedly' said to her while she was interviewing him. Harry had even told Ginny and me he didn't say any of the things mentioned:

_I suppose I get my strength from my parents. I know they'd be very proud of me if they could see me now…Yes, sometimes at night I still cry about them, I'm not ashamed to admit it…I know nothing will hurt me during the tournament, because they're watching over me. _

She also 'supposedly' interviewed _other_ people about him too: _Harry has at last found love at Hogwarts. His close friend, Colin Creevey, says that Harry is rarely seen out of the company of one Hermione Granger, a stunningly pretty Muggle-born girl who, like Harry, is one of the top students in the school_.

The article included a little something on Fleur Delacour and Viktor Krum (whose names had both been misspelled) and absolutely nothing on Cedric.

A ton of Slytherin students had a lot to say about this article. "Want a hanky, Potter, in case you start crying in Transfiguration?" asked Sidney Quagmire, his yellow eyes glinting wickedly from under his long, lank ginger hair.

"Since when have you been one of the top students in the school, Potter?" asked Blaise Zambini, towering over about two feet over Harry. "Or is this a school you and Longbottom have set up together?"

"Hey- Harry!" called a pretty Chinese girl whom I recognized to be a Ravenclaw girl named Cho Chang. She, who usually seemed very nice, was probably going to tell him something very mean. Ginny looked extremely nervous.

"Yeah, that's right!" Harry shouted, wheeling around in the corridor. "I've just been crying my eyes out over my dead mum, and I'm just off to do a bit more…"

"No- it was just- you dropped your quill," said Cho, quietly.

"Oh- right- sorry," said Harry nervously. He took his quill back.

"Er…good luck on Tuesday," said Cho. "I really hope you do well."

Then Harry left. "Good," said Ginny. "He didn't respond."

"_Stunningly pretty? Her_?" Pansy Parkinson shrieked, pointing at Hermione in utter shock. "What was she judging against- a chipmunk?"

"Ignore it," said Hermione in a dignified voice, holding her head high up in the air as AnnaSophia Leach and some other Slytherin girls snickered rudely.

"Wow, how do you do it, Hermione?" I asked. "How do you act so dignified and unembarrassed in a time such as this?"

"You just have to keep your head up high and ignore them, Amy," Hermione responded. "People are going to say what they want but that should never bring you down. I suggest you should take my advice, because there's something in here on you _too_."

My hands shook as I took the newspaper from her. I wondered what Skeeter could have said about me? I was nervous to find out, but I found it at long last on the last page: _There is also another excessively pretty girl at Hogwarts- a third year- named Amy Sellick. On the day when we were interviewing the heroic Harry Potter and taking the champion's pictures she burst the room uninvited _("_She_ invited me!")_, and thought she'd go right ahead and interview Viktor Krum. People say that this girl, who happens to be the daughter of the famous _Prophet_ executive, Filbert Sellick, just like Potter, is an attention hog and loves to be the center of attention._

_ "She just wants to be a part of the whole tournament," says a very charming, filthy rich Slytherin fourth year named Draco Malfoy. "She thinks that just because her father is a big name she can participate in such events."_

_ It is also widely known throughout all of Hogwarts that Amy Sellick has a very obvious crush on Cedric Dickory, the Hufflepuff champion for the Triwizard Cup. This is another reason why we expect some more disturbances from young Sellick throughout the events of this major event, since she is known to be a real stalker._

_ "Yes, she's a stalker," adds Draco Malfoy. "She's stalked me for three years now. Frightful, really. I told my dad to break it off with her dad a long time ago. I've got to protect myself-"_

I didn't read the rest. I felt my face turn bright red. "How could she do this?" I asked.

"Who?" Hermione asked.

"Rita Skeeter," I replied.

"She's written things about everyone," Hermione said. "Someone really needs to fire her."

"My dad should," I said. "He's her _boss_. And she's wrong; she _doesn't_ know how to take orders from people. Hey, do you think she snuck this message in right under my dad's nose? He wouldn't have approved-"

"Most likely," said Hermione, heading off for her next class.

"Guess what," said Seamus. He and Dean ran up to me. "Ron isn't speaking to Harry anymore."

"Why not?" I wondered.

"Not sure," Seamus replied. "He might be jealous or something. Well, bye."

"Bye," I said, practically before I could even say _hi_. Just before I went to Defense Against The Dark Arts Ginny joined me.

"So, whose side are you on?" she asked me.

"Harry's," I said quickly without thought. "Did you read the article?"

"Yeah," Ginny replied with a sigh. "Don't worry, Amy, you're _not_ a stalker. Don't listen to anything Malfoy has to say." I believed that I wasn't a stalker. I _ignored _Malfoy now! Kind of. And were my feelings for Cedric really _that_ obvious?

The Saturday before the first task was the first time the third years were going to Hogsmeade. I was so exited. Ginny and I were going together. When we were beginning to go down to the Three Broomsticks, a pub with excellent butterbeer, I noticed Rita Skeeter and her paunchy photographer friend emerging. "Hide!" I exclaimed, grabbing Ginny and pulling her to one side of the Three Broomsticks. I didn't want Rita to notice me, but no such luck.

"Amy Sellick!" exclaimed Rita, her paunchy colleague next to her. "I admire your outfit; you're so rich, aren't you? Those earmuffs are splendid!"

"Really, thanks," I said, feeling for my fluffy pink earmuffs on my head. I was nervous. I really wanted her to go. But since she wasn't, I asked, "Are you staying to watch the first task, since you're in the village, you know?"

"Yes," she replied. "Goodbye now." As she left her colleague waddled silently beside her.

I called to Rita before she left, "Hey, I'm not a stalker!"

"No, Amy," said Ginny, slapping her hand to her forehead.

"Excuse me?" said Rita, looking startled. "Did you say you're not a stalker?"

"Yes, thank you very much," I said feeling brave, an emotion I felt often.

"Not what I heard," Rita disagreed. She walked closer to me now. "Who is this- your friend? The redheaded one in the shabby robes?"

"Ginny Weasley," Ginny replied, feeling brave too.

"Lovely," said Rita, scowling. Then she and the potbellied man left finally.

"What a witch," said Ginny.

"You're telling me," I agreed with her, grabbing her arm and dragging her into the Three Broomsticks. When we went inside we could see Ron, Fred, George, and Lee Jordan all sitting at one table. Then at a table nearby we could see Hermione sitting alone. She was talking to someone though, so that confused us. A few minutes later we saw Cho Chang and a large group of Ravenclaw girls coming in laughing. Then over at another table we saw Hagrid. We thought about sitting with him, but changed our minds as we noticed him sitting with Professor Mad-Eye Moody. Moody was staring over at Hermione's table suspiciously.

"All righ', Ginny?" said Hagrid loudly. "Amy?"

"Hey!" we replied, waving. Mad-Eye Moody glanced up at us once, and gave a little wave. Then he stared back at Hermione's table again. Apparently he was noticing something we weren't, especially since his blue eye had some sort of super powers…

We sat down at a table. A pretty, curvy landlady came over. She wore a nametag that read, _Madam Rosmeretta_. "What can I get for you ladies?" she wanted to know.

"Butterbeer, please," Ginny replied. "For both of us."

"Coming up," said Rosmeretta, taking notes and going to the next table to take orders from them.

"Wow," said Ginny, reading an article from the _Daily Prophet_.

"Urgh, don't read that nasty paper, Ginny!" I cried, snatching it from her. "It's all lies! Don't believe anything that Skeeter woman-"

"No, it isn't Rita's," Ginny pointed out. "Haven't you heard about Bertha Jorkins? She's one of my dad's colleagues, so she must know your dad?"

I gulped. "Yes," I said. "Isn't she the one who disappeared in Albania?"

"Yes," Ginny replied.

"What do they have to say about her, besides she was nosy and brainless?" I wanted to know. "At least that's what Dad told me…"

"They're still trying to find her," Ginny pointed out. "Merlin's beard, I wonder why it's so hard for them to find her already."

"Me too," I said.

Someone standing above us cleared their throat. I looked up. It was Michael Corner. He was looking down at Ginny. "Excuse me," he said. "Can we borrow an um…chair?"

"Of course," I replied, pulling a chair from out under the table.

"Er- thanks," he said sulkily. He seemed a bit disappointed and I had no idea why. He took the chair and gave it to one of his Ravenclaw friends.

Next Saturday morning Hermione was eating with Ginny and me, Harry dragged her away. He had been acting extremely intense before the day of the first task, which was on Tuesday, and he needed her help. Harry was nervous as he was called to the grounds. Classes after midday had to stop. When we all filed to the Quidditch field, which now was the Triwizard Tournament field, we all were nervous ourselves. We were nervous about the champions. We learned they were each going to fight a different type of dragon and retrieve a golden egg too.

Cedric had to fight the Swedish Short-Snout, which was silvery-blue with long, pointed horns. Fleur had to fight the Welsh Green, which was green and smooth-scaled. Viktor had to fight the Chinese Fireball, which was red with an odd fringe of fine gold spikes around its face. Harry had to fight the dreaded Hungarian Horntail, which was giant and black and looked more like a lizard than a dragon.

Cedric transfigured a rock into a Labrador dog so the Short-Snout would be distracted, and he got the egg, but he got burned as well. The dragon changed its mind and went for Cedric instead of the dog, and he just narrowly missed the bite. Fleur tried a charm on the Welsh Green, which put it to sleep, but a great jet of flame shot out when it snored and her skirt caught on fire. She put it out with water from her wand just before retrieving the egg. Krum hit the Fireball in the eye with a spell from his wand, which made it trample around in pain and agony (almost painful to watch), and it squashed half its real eggs. He lost points for that since the eggs weren't supposed to be ruined. Harry was the most fascinating of all though. He was able to Summon his Firebolt broom to the scene and fly on it to get to the egg. He got to it quicker than any of the other champions did.

When the Horntail was taken away from the stadium the five judges held their scores in the air. Madame Maxime gave Harry an eight, Mr. Crouch gave him a nine, Dumbledore gave him a nine, Ludo gave him a ten, and Karkaroff gave him a four.

When Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Carly came into the Gryffindor common room hours later we all cheered and yelled. There were mountains of cakes and flagons of pumpkin juice and butterbeer on every surface; Lee Jordan had let off some Filibuster's Fireworks, so that the air was thick with stars and sparks; Dean Thomas, a great artist, put up some impressive new banners, most of which depicted Harry zooming around the Horntail's head on his Firebolt, though a some showed Cedric with his head on fire.

"Great job, Harry!" I exclaimed.

"Thank you," he said, putting his arm around me. I hugged him back.

"Hey, don't I get a hug?" Ron asked me, smiling irritatingly.

I chuckled. "So you two are back on good terms, right?" I asked.

"Of course," said Ron embarrassedly. Harry nodded.

"Then I'll give you a hug," I assured Ron, throwing my arms around him for the first time. He put his arms around my waist and squeezed a bit too tight.

Everyone was extremely hungry. We all helped ourselves to some food (and sweets from Honeydukes). The whole time neither Madeleine Meander nor John Seyfried ate though; they were just snogging. I got to talk to Ron and Harry a lot (and eventually got too sick to eat when they informed me that in their detentions with Snape they had to pickle rat brains). All of a sudden I felt lucky that the only thing I had to do was clean the insides of old cabinets with my hands.

"Blimey, this is heavy," said Lee Jordan, picking up the golden egg, which Harry had left on a table. "Open it, Harry, go on! Let's just see what's inside it!"

Lee passed the egg to Harry. Harry opened it and the most horrible noise- a loud and screechy wailing- filled the room. It gave me déjà vu of the time I went to Nearly Headless Nick's deathday party during my first year at Hogwarts and the ghost orchestra had been playing the musical saw. "Shut it!" Fred Weasley bellowed, his hands over his ears.

"What _was _that?" said Seamus Finnigan, staring at it as Harry slammed it shut. "Sounded like a banshee…Maybe you've got to get past one of those next, Harry!"

"It was someone being tortured!" said Neville, who had gone very white and spilled sausage rolls all over the floor. "You're going to have to fight the Cruciatus Curse!" I got suspicious. Why did the curse bother him so much? I mean, I knew it was bad (I know- I almost had it _done_ on me) but did he have an experience with it too? I wanted to know the answer.

"Don't be a prat, Neville, that's illegal," George assured him. "They wouldn't use the Cruciatus Curse on the champions. I thought it sounded a bit like Percy singing…maybe you've got to attack him while he's in the shower, Harry." I couldn't help laughing. Percy Weasley was an elder Weasley brother who finished his seventh year at Hogwarts last year and was working for the Ministry of Magic now. He was very practical and the very image of him singing in a shower was comical.

"Want a jam tart, Hermione?" said Fred. Hermione looked doubtfully at the plate he was offering her. He grinned. "It's all right," he said. "I haven't done anything to them. It's the custard creams you've got to watch." Neville, who had just bitten into a custard cream, choked and spat it out. Fred laughed. "Just my little joke, Neville," he said. I thought that was unfair.

Hermione took the jam tart. "Did you get all this from the kitchens, Fred?" she asked.

"Yep," said Fred, grinning at her. He then imitated a house-elf in a high-pitched squeak, "'Anything we can get you, sir, anything at all!' They're dead helpful…get me a roast ox if I said I was peckish."

"How did you get in there?" she asked in an innocently casual sort of voice.

"Easy," said Fred, "concealed door behind a painting of a bowl of fruit. Just tickle the pear, and it giggles, and-" He looked suspicious. "Why?"

"Nothing," she said quickly.

"Going to try and lead the house-elves out on a strike now, are you?" said George. "Going to give up all the leaflet stuff and try to stir them up into rebellion?" Several people chortled. She didn't answer.

"Don't you go upsetting them and telling them they've got to take clothes and salaries!" Fred warned her. "You'll put them off their cooking!" Then Neville caused a diversion by turning into a large canary. "Oh- sorry, Neville!" Fred shouted over all of the laughter (neither Ginny nor I were laughing of course). "I forgot- it _was _the custard creams we hexed!" Within a minute though, Neville had molted, and once his feathers fell off, he looked entirely normal. He joined in the laughing.

"Canary Creams!" Fred shouted to the excitable crowd. "George and I invented them- seven Sickles each, a bargain!"

"Neville," I said quietly, implying that I wanted to ask him something privately. "Did you ever have an experience with the Cruciatus Curse? You seemed so cautious about it, and you're very quiet all of a sudden…"

"I said nothing was wrong with me, Amy," he assured me, continuing to laugh about the Canary Creams. "Really, I'm quite fine."

"It just doesn't seem that way, though," I said.

"Canary Creams, Amy?" Fred asked me, balancing a stack of them out in front of me.

"No, thanks, Fred," I said. Turning into a bird at a time such as this didn't sound so appealing at the moment.

At one in the morning the party ended. People started going up back to their rooms.

"That was so fun," said Ginny. "I can't believe it; Harry won the round. It's so amazing, and he's _underage_!"

"It _is_ amazing," I agreed, "but I'm still a bit concerned. Just because he didn't get hurt this round doesn't mean he won't the next time. He's young and inexperienced and I'm not entirely sure if this is right for him."

"Of course it is!" Ginny argued. "I mean, he's the _Boy Who Lived_! With his talent I'm sure he could tackle _anything_!"

"Amy! Ginny!" I heard someone shout. I turned around. It was Hermione. Carly was following her closely behind. "You have got to go down to the kitchen with me tomorrow."

"Is this about the house-elves?" Ginny asked in an annoyed tone. Hermione nodded. Ginny groaned. "Come off it already, Hermione! The house-elves like what they do! You won't be alone, though; won't Carly go down with you?"

"No, ma'am," said Carly quickly, taking a step back. "I agree with you; the house-elves love what they do. They don't need nurturing."

"I'll go with you," I assured Hermione.

She smiled. "Thanks, Amy," she said. "We'll go during dinner one of these days when everyone's at the Great Hall, how does that sound?"

"Good," I said.

"Splendid," she said. "Good night!"

. . . . . . . . . . . .

Author's Note: Amy promised Hermione she's going to go down with her to the kitchens of Hogwarts to visit the house-elves even when nobody else would; she's so thoughtful, LOL! Well looks as if Harry's doing great in the Triwizard Tournament, but who knows how long that will last? The next few rounds will be more challenging. As long as he has the support from his friends, he'll be alright.


End file.
